


Personal Assistant

by 7twistedshadows



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7twistedshadows/pseuds/7twistedshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First an auto accident, then a lawsuit. Han Geng keeps thinking things can't get much worse... right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

Chapter 1

Han Geng glanced to one side, then the other before he pulled slowly around the turn and eased into traffic. He came to a stop and waited until their seemed enough space, but as he was pulling out he slowed, reaching for his cell phone. The phone was playing the ringtone he had set for only one person and he didn’t want his mother to waste the expense of an international call by not answering. The phone was jolted out of his hand before he could pick up the call as another car collided with his borrowed one, the side airbags thankfully inflating and saving him from a nasty bump on the head as he was jostled about.

He sat frozen for a moment once the car came to a stop, his breathing erratic, taking a mental stock and noting that nothing seemed to hurt. He pushed the air bag out of the way and opened the door, stepping out and looking around. The front side panel of his car and part of the door near the joint were dented, but seemed repairable. He wouldn’t be driving home, though, he noted, seeing the way the tire was bent at an unusual angle. The other car didn’t seem much better, with the hood dented and the radiator leaking water onto the street in a small but steady stream. Han Geng stepped back to his car, quickly reaching into the passenger seat where his phone had fallen and grabbing the device before going to check on the other driver.

By the time he stood and started walking toward the other car, the driver had stepped out and had his own phone to his ear, speaking quickly to the person on the other end and after a moment, Han Geng realized that he was calling emergency services. _Of course,_ he thought, _the insurance will want a police report._ He sighed, running his free hand through his hair and taking a deep breath afterward. He blinked, suddenly remembering the interview he had been headed to when the accident had happened. He glanced at his watch, noting the cracked face and then opening his phone and searching for the number for the company. Maybe they would let him reschedule if he explained what had happened.

A few minutes later, he hung up the phone and rubbed his hand over his face. Rescheduling had apparently been too much to hope for. He looked up as a man in a paramedic’s uniform walked over to him and began asking him questions. He answered them as best he could, occasionally asking the man to rephrase them when he didn’t understand a word. They were simple questions: was he feeling any pain, was his vision okay, and would he please come over to the ambulance waiting a short way away so they could check his vitals. He followed, his thoughts on what else he might be able to apply for and that he needed to call his mother later and explain things, let her know he was okay and apologizing for not answering when she called. 

Another man was already seated in the back of the ambulance, being checked over by the other paramedic. Han Geng dimly recognized him as the driver of the other car, but beyond that didn’t pay much attention. He sat still on the raised edge of the vehicle as the paramedic checked his pulse, looked at his eyes, asked at intervals while pressing on different spots if anything hurt, which nothing did. He could feel himself shaking slightly, since he had never been in an accident before, and now that the adrenalin was wearing off, he was feeling the after-effects.

Once the paramedic was done with him, declaring that he seemed fine but to make sure and go to the hospital right away if he had any pain or anything unusual in the next few days, he was directed back in the direction of his car, which was being loaded onto a waiting tow truck. An officer got his attention, asking him for his license and the registration on the car, then yelling at the tow truck to stop loading the car for a moment so he could reach into the passenger side and retrieve the documents and his insurance papers from the glove box. 

A flash of light and a blur of red hair caught his attention off to the side and he spent a moment reassuring the officer that he was fine, no he didn’t need to go the hospital, something just caught his attention was all. The officer left him to tell the tow truck where to take the car for repairs and he had to leave it to the man’s advice, since he had no idea where to go for such things, having been in the country less than two weeks. He looked around a moment, realizing the officer had taken his documentation and had not said when he would give it back. He wondered if he was free to go and would need to go get it later or if it would be returned to him. He stood there for a moment, feeling stupid and ignorant until the officer returned and handed him his papers along with another where someone had written down the insurance information for the other driver. He was told to go home, and the report would be available for his insurance claim the next day.

Han Geng stepped toward the curb as the tow trucks with both of the wrecked cars drove away, catching another sight of red hair out of the corner of his eye as he did so. He turned to look and watched as a thin man with bright red hair slid into the back of a black car with darkly tinted windows before it drove away. 

The walk home seemed longer than it was and by the time he stepped into the small apartment he had rented on a temporary basis, he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. He kicked off his shoes at the door and shrugged off the suit jacket he wore before tossing it over the back of the couch. He looked at the kitchen, briefly thinking about making something to eat since his stomach was growling at him, but it was quickly discarded in favor of lying on the couch. 

He spent a few moments twisting and turning on the couch to get the lumps to settle in places where they wouldn’t leave him sore later on. He reached for the remote and turned it on, randomly flipping through the channels until he found something that seemed half-way interesting. It took him a moment to realize that he had found a travel show for Koreans wanting to travel to Beijing and he spent a few minutes more chuckling at some of the advice that was given. He had seen some travelers doing some of the ridiculous things they mentioned in the show, and now he understood why. Gradually, his eyes drifted shut and a short while later his hand loosened, the remote falling with a small thud to the threadbare rug underneath the couch as he fell asleep.

 

Hunger finally woke him a while later, along with his phone ringing near his ear, still in his coat pocket. He shook his head as he dug it out of the pocket, pressing the button and lifting it to his ear as he greeted his mother.

“You didn’t answer when I called this morning. Did you get a new job?” Her voice crackled just slightly as it traveled the distance from Beijing to Seoul.

“No, mom, I didn’t. I had a minor accident this morning.”

He pulled the phone from his ear for a moment as his mother immediately began asking questions in rapid-fire Mandarin, the sound both comforting and harsh on his ears. After a moment, her worried tirade ended and he put the phone back to his ear.

“I’m fine, mom, but the car needs some work. Once I see what the police report says, I’ll know if I can get the other driver’s insurance to cover the repairs. I’ll just take the bus until then if I need to go on an interview or anything. How is Uncle Fan? Did he find a new job yet?”

“No, he didn’t. He has interviews every day this week, though.” She paused a moment, and Han Geng had a feeling he knew what was coming next. “Han Geng, he is very sorry about this situation. If he’d had any idea the company was almost bankrupt, he never would have suggested you apply for that position in Korea. He feels completely responsible for this.”

“Mom, he has no reason to feel that way. I don’t blame him because the company directors kept things a secret. The story has been all over the news here, the directors are wanted for fraud because they showed fake books to a bank to get a huge loan.” He sighed, running a hand over his face as he slumped back down on his back on the lumpy couch. “Tell Uncle Fan I’ll be fine. I have more interviews, and I’m sure I’ll get another job.”

Han Geng closed his eyes and smiled slightly as his mother started chatting about other things for a few minutes before declaring that she had spent too much money by talking and she had to go. The two said their goodbyes and HanGeng hung up the phone, waiting a moment before he stood and walked into the kitchen to see what he had to cook with.

Regardless of what he had told his mother, he didn’t have any more interviews yet. He had turned in several applications, only to be told he didn’t have enough experience, and they needed someone who wasn’t just out of college for the position. The interview today had been the only hope he had, and he had missed it because of that accident. A brief flare of anger washed over him as he remembered it had been his mother’s ringtone that had distracted him but then he shook his head and took a deep breath. It hadn’t been his mother’s fault. He had made the decision to answer the phone when he should have been paying attention to the road. The accident was his fault. So, now he had no job, no car and a dwindling savings account. 

_Surely,_ he thought, _things can’t get much worse._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@@@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunlight streamed into a posh office, catching in the red hair of the man who sat in front of the desk as though he owned the place and not the man across from him. His clothes were simple, a black dress shirt and slacks, but it was the little details that marked them as designer. The subtle stitching in a deep red on the collar and cuffs of the shirt, the impeccable quality of the fabric of both made those that knew what to look for envious. What set this man apart, though, was not his designer clothing, or even the almost too-thin frame or the way he slouched slightly as he sat in the chair. Even his hair, which was currently died a bright shade of red was not what set him apart. Most people who came to visit their lawyer’s office were looking for advice and assistance. Kim HeeChul never asked for advice.

“HeeChul, I can’t just have you put on a docket when it is convenient for you. We haven’t even finished filing this lawsuit yet. The other party has to be served notice and be given enough time to find their own representation.” 

HeeChul looked up from his study of his perfectly manicured nails at the man who had been his friend and attorney for the last five years of his career. SiWon was dressed in a suit that was becoming slightly rumpled as the day wore on, the fabric to HeeChul’s knowledgeable eye looked cheap and possibly even slightly worn. He frowned.

“Yah, don’t I pay you enough so you can dress better than this? That shirt is hideous. Where did you get it, a bargain bin on sale day? Aish.” 

SiWon glanced down at himself before looking up at the ceiling and sighing gently, praying for patience as he seemed to do frequently when HeeChul came to his office. He looked back at the other man who was staring at him, apparently waiting for a response in his designer clothes while SiWon sat in a knock-off suit and a cheap dress shirt he had owned since his first year of law school. 

“Yes, HeeChul, you pay me enough. The housekeeper had a family emergency yesterday, so she couldn’t get to the dry cleaners to pick up my laundry. Since I didn’t have to be in court today, I wore this. But let’s get back to the point, HeeChul. You can’t just go around suing people and setting the court dockets according to your whims, it doesn’t work that way.”

“Well, why not? I think it should, and since I’m the grieved party in this case—“

HeeChul stopped and turned at the sound of the door opening and footsteps on the hardwood floors. He looked back at SiWon briefly with a smirk on his face before changing it to a friendly smile and standing as the gentleman stepped onto the area rug stretching under the desk and the chairs in front of it. This man was someone he did not see often, but knew just the same and was the reason he had been so sure SiWon would be able to get HeeChul’s case moved to the front of the court dockets: SiWon’s father, Judge Choi YoungSu. 

Judge Choi nodded to his son, before smiling at his son’s friend. HeeChul bowed slightly, a respect he rarely gave anyone else, and waited until the older man sat in the chair next to him before sitting – without slouching -- back in his own chair. 

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything, son. I am free this afternoon, I thought I might see if you wanted to get some lunch and then go visit Mrs. Kim’s son in the hospital.” 

SiWon sighed briefly, shooting a glance at HeeChul, who gave him back an innocent smile that made him want to groan out loud.

“Its fine, father, I’d like to go with you. I was just explaining to HeeChul that just because he wants to sue someone, and just because he’s famous, that does not mean the court will put his case on the docket when he chooses.”

“Oh?” Judge Choi sat forward slightly, glancing from his son to HeeChul. “May I ask what grievance has been done to Mr. Kim?”

“He was in an accident on his way to the set yesterday,” SiWon began, shooting another glance at HeeChul. “The police declared the fault to be 50/50, since both HeeChul and the other driver were distracted.”

“Oh, really?” SiWon looked back at the tone of his father’s voice and saw an expression he didn’t want to analyze for a moment before it was gone, leaving him bewildered as his father continued. “May I see the police report?”

SiWon handed the documents over to his father, waiting quietly and trying his best to ignore the smirk HeeChul was giving him as his father looked over the information. After a few moments, his father made a small noise and looked up.

“It says the other driver is a Chinese national who was just laid off from his job. It would be difficult for him to find representation on short notice.” He glanced at HeeChul, then back to SiWon. “I have time next week in my courtroom, on Tuesday morning. Have the papers served by tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll have it put on the docket.”

HeeChul grinned at SiWon with a predatory glint in his eye that SiWon knew meant no good for anyone, much less the poor foreigner who had happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. HeeChul stood as the older man did, smiling at him again, all hints of the smirk from just a moment ago gone.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, bowing slightly.

“Not a problem, Mr. Kim. I’m enjoying your new drama, I would hate to see your acting affected by this annoying chain of events.” Judge Choi nodded to his son briefly. “I’ll just go upstairs and say hello to an old friend. Will an hour give you the time to finish with Mr. Kim, son?”

“An hour should be plenty, thank you, father.” SiWon waited to sit until his father had left the room, then he turned to HeeChul. 

“Don’t start,” he said. “What are you thinking, HeeChul? The police report has it as a 50/50, what are you expecting to get from an unemployed foreigner?”

HeeChul slouched back into his chair and just waved a hand. “I’m not expecting much, but I have to try for something. I got fined for delaying the production since the director had to rearrange the shooting schedule. If that guy had been paying attention, he wouldn’t have gotten in my way.”

“And if you had been paying attention, you wouldn’t have hit him,” SiWon shot back. “What were you distracted by, anyway? Some hot chick, an interesting cloud formation?”

HeeChul muttered something under his breath, not looking at SiWon.

“What was that?”

“I said I was fixing my hair! This one piece would stay where it was supposed to!”

SiWon looked at his friend and client for a moment, and then dropped his head into his hands. At times like these, he wished he could afford to give HeeChul’s business to another attorney.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

Chapter 2

Han Geng trudged up the single flight of stairs and unlocked the door to the small room he was renting. He had been out in the heat, riding the bus from one place to another, putting in applications for jobs wherever they were willing to let him apply, but no one had said anything about any interviews. Only one company had even agreed they had an opening, but the secretary had caught up to him as he was leaving the building and told him quietly not to expect anything, since the hiring manager wasn’t fond of foreigners. He knew he had trouble hiding his disappointment from her, and he had thanked her, because he did appreciate her honesty and her kindness to him, since she had brought him a cold bottle of water to drink on his way to the bus stop two blocks away.

He walked inside his room, leaving his shoes near the door and setting his bag on the table before moving into the bedroom to change and quickly shower away the worst of the sweat and grime of the day. He set the water to a temperature that was just barely above lukewarm and washed quickly, his growling stomach reminding him he had skipped lunch to try to put in another application. When he stepped out of his bedroom a short time later, he was dressed casually in worn black sweatpants and a black wife-beater, his bare feet padding quietly across the floor to the small kitchen. He looked in the refrigerator, then the cupboards and sighed. He had forgotten to stop at the store on the way home, and there was nothing left. He had eaten the last cup of instant noodles for breakfast that morning.

He stepped to his bag that he had left on the table, reaching inside for his wallet and counting the bills. If he ate light lunches the next week and bought more of the inexpensive noodles and less produce, he could afford calling for take-out instead of going to the store. While it was something he tried to avoid, it was also something he was going to have to live with. He was simply too tired to go out again that night.

He took out his phone and called a restaurant that had left a delivery menu taped to every door in the neighborhood the week before and ordered as best he could, even though he had no idea what some of the dishes listed were. Once the food was ordered, he sat on the couch and turned on the television to watch his favorite drama while he waited. He had started watching it on the internet when he was in China, and now that he lived in Korea, he never missed an episode. As the show started, he frowned, something bothering him about one of the actors. For reasons he couldn’t figure out, it felt like he had seen one of them before, and not on television. He shook his head, chalking it up to hunger and fatigue and settled back, shifting his back to nudge one of the lumps in the couch out of the way so he could be more comfortable.

His drama was at a critical point in the story a short while later and he was leaning forward a bit, waiting for the main character to realize he’d been cheated, when there was a firm, loud knock on his door and he nearly fell off the couch in surprise. He caught himself with one leg on the floor and one hand on the arm of the couch and took a second to right himself, taking a deep breath to calm his heartbeat while he retrieved the cash for his food from his wallet. 

He opened the door after another loud knock and frowned. The man standing there did not look like a delivery boy. He was wearing a nice suit, carrying a briefcase in one hand and an envelope in another and was definitely not hiding a delivery box behind him. Han Geng frowned, opening his mouth to tell the man he must have the wrong room, when the man spoke.

“Mr. Han Kyung?”

Han Geng winced, correcting the man’s pronunciation of his name out of habit more than because he was thinking about it.

“This is you, correct?” The man held out the envelope so that Han Geng could see his name and address printed neatly on the front.

Han Geng nodded, highly confused about what was going on and why this man had some kind of letter for him. He watched as the man held out the envelope again, and he reached to take it as if on auto-pilot, nearly dropping it when the man let go before he had a firm grip on it. He watched as the man opened his briefcase a few inches and reached in to withdraw a clipboard with a list of names and signatures on the page. He pointed to a line near the bottom and held out a pen toward Han Geng, asking him to sign.

Han Geng signed, then looked up again while trying to remember how to say ‘what is this about?’ in Korean. He thought he almost had it when he heard footsteps coming down the hall and looked up to see a tall woman in an expensive looking black pencil skirt and matching blouse walk toward his door. He could only blink as she stopped and spoke to him.

“Han Geng? I am Lee GaHae, your attorney. Since I see you have been served, maybe we can step inside and you can answer some questions for me that may help me win your case.”

Han Geng blinked again, his brain acknowledging that she had spoken in perfect Mandarin, with barely a hint of an accent at all. She even spoke the Beijing dialect he had become accustomed to. He shook his head, mentally pushing his shock to the side and stepped out of the doorway to let her in.

“Of course, Ms. Lee. I’m sorry, but I’m rather confused. What is going on, and since when do I have or need an attorney?”

She smiled as she stepped inside and slid her shoes off, dropping her height by several centimeters. Han Geng noticed distractedly that with her shoes off the top of her head was even with his shoulder.

“While your benefactor has asked to remain anonymous, I can tell you that all my expenses are paid, and you will owe me nothing for my services on this case. The attorney for the plaintiff is one of the best, even if he is weak when it comes to telling his client ‘no,’ and it was thought that you would need someone of a comparable level. So, here I am.”

Han Geng blinked again as he closed the door behind them.

“I’m sorry, plaintiff? Am I being sued?”

“Yes,” GaHae replied, nodding her head slowly, smiling kindly. “I can tell this is something if a shock for you. I’m not surprised, since normally these types of cases take much longer than a couple of days to get started. However, seeing that the person suing you is a celebrity, it perhaps isn’t as shocking as it might be otherwise.”

The closing music for the drama he had been watching grabbed the attention of them both and GaHae glanced at the television and sighed. 

“Of all the bad luck, you had to get into an accident with Kim HeeChul.”

Han Geng looked at her, then back at the screen, the reason that the actor had looked so familiar to him earlier finally coming to mind. He had seen the man in person. In fact, he recognized him now as the driver of the other car and winced. It looked like things just got worse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@@@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HeeChul was sitting on his black leather couch, dressed in his pajamas, with a script open on his lap as he studied his lines for the next day’s filming. He didn’t look up when the door opened and two men entered, one with his phone pressed to his ear, muttering “Yes” and “I understand” at varying intervals, in between winces and silent sighs. The other carried a stack of papers with a bag from a local store sitting on top, and a take-out bag dangling from one hand. After a few moments, HeeChul laid the script aside on the couch and walked over to the large dining table where the papers and the food had been placed. He didn’t bother even glancing at the papers, instead reaching for a beer from one bag and a tray of food from the other.

He sat down at the table and removed the cover from the aluminum tray, taking a deep whiff of the appetizing aromas of the food before reaching for a pair of chopsticks. He broke them apart, and then stirred the noodles with the sauce on top of them. He paused to open his beer only to find it snatched from his hand. He looked up, indignant and annoyed, but the man with his beer in his hand didn’t seem to care about HeeChul’s annoyance.

“HeeChul, I was only gone for three days. In a mere seventy-two hours, you managed to get into a traffic accident -- which of course got covered by all of the media – get fined by the production company because they have had to reschedule filming because of you four times in the last month, and then make the front page of the gossip section of tomorrow’s paper by suing the other driver in your accident. Why is it that I am supposed to be your manager, but I feel more like a babysitter? Do you have any idea how upset the agency is about all of this? Where is your assistant? Why were you driving yourself?”

HeeChul arched one brow as he looked up at his manager. The only slightly older man was thin, nearly frail looking at times, but he was not someone to be messed with. HeeChul knew that was why they had been put together, but it was not something he really cared about.

“Teukie, I know how long you were gone, just like I know what I was doing while you were gone. I’m sure the agency is very upset about this, but I am one of the best and most-watched actors in Korea. They are not about to let me go as long as everything I am in pulls in big numbers. My current drama has the highest ratings in Korea right now, and my last movie pulled in ten times its production budget at the box office.”

LeeTeuk or ‘Teukie’ as HeeChul insisted on calling him, sighed, rubbing his fingers against his temples and the raging headache that was swiftly building.

“Yes, HeeChul, I am well aware of that, and so is the company. Everyone knows it. Now answer the rest of my questions: where is your assistant and why wasn’t he driving you?”

HeeChul stuffed a bite of his noodles in his mouth and snatched his beer back from LeeTeuk’s hand as he shrugged.

“I have no idea where he is, I fired him right after you left.”

“What?” 

LeeTeuk winced as his own assistant decided to enter the conversation. He turned, placing his hands on the larger man’s shoulders, hoping to be able to keep him from lunging at HeeChul. 

“You fired my cousin? What did he do wrong?”

“You mean what didn’t he do wrong,” HeeChul retorted. “He was late more often than me, he couldn’t look good in a suit if it was tailored for him and he drove slower than my grandmother. The first three times I was late to the set were his fault.”

LeeTeuk sighed, patting KangIn on the shoulder when the bluster seemed to go out of him at HeeChul’s words. KangIn murmured something about forgetting something, and then walked out of the apartment, slamming the door on his way out.

“HeeChul,” LeeTeuk said softly, sitting down at the table and taking out another aluminum tray of food for himself. “I know he may not have been the best assistant, but now I have to hire a new one and that takes time, you know that. I have to put up a notice to the older trainees and give them the chance, I have to make sure they are clear and can be trusted not to reveal secrets about you or sell your things to the fans. When is your court date for this lawsuit you’ve started?”

“Tuesday morning,” HeeChul muttered, stuffing his mouth with more food.

LeeTeuk looked up in surprise for a moment, and then just shook his head. 

“I pity SiWon for being your attorney. The man has the patience of a saint for putting up with you.”

HeeChul scowled at LeeTeuk while he continued to eat. He had heard that sentiment before, but it didn’t mean he liked to hear it. He was a nice guy, as long as things went his way. He had plenty of friends who made sure he was happy and he was nice to them. He reached for his cell phone when it began ringing, picking it up off the table and looking at the caller ID before answering the call.

“HongKi, what’s up?”

HeeChul stood, wandering slowly toward his bedroom as he gave a little finger-wave back over his shoulder at LeeTeuk. 

“I’d love to get out, HongKi, where did you have in mind?”

LeeTeuk grabbed his own phone, looked up HeeChul’s revised schedule for the next day and sighed gently. HeeChul didn’t have anything scheduled until noon, so going out with HongKi would not be a problem, and at least it would help keep him out of trouble. Maybe he should tag along, though, just to be sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

Chapter 3

Han Geng shifted on the bench outside the court room, waiting for his attorney to return from the ladies’ room. She had insisted on picking him up, since his Korean was based around business and the necessities of life, not the court system and she didn’t want him to get lost looking for the court room. He had been grateful for her assistance, especially since he had still been trying to tie his tie with shaking hands that morning when she arrived. She had deftly done it for him, then looked him over and declared that he looked fine.

The entire weekend, since the night he had been served the papers, had been something of a blur to him. GaHae had spent some time that night questioning him about things, getting information about his background, his short time in Korea, how his job search had been going and what his plans were. While he had been trying to look on the bright side of things as much as he could, her questions had driven home the fact that if he didn’t get offered a job soon, he would have no choice but to use his round-trip ticket that was sitting with his passport in his dresser drawer. He had spent all day on Monday looking for a job, even to the point of begging to just be given an interview, or even a trial of just a few hours to prove himself, only to be turned away again and again with the explanation that there were no entry-level positions and he did not have the necessary experience for the positions that were available.

He stood as GaHae approached. She was dressed in a conservative pantsuit, dark blue in color, with a white silk blouse. Her long hair had been pulled back in a low tail and she looked stunning and somewhat intimidating until she smiled at him, indicating they should go in to the courtroom to wait for the judge. They stepped inside and Han Geng followed her, looking around at everything. He had never been in a courtroom before, and had never thought he would be entering one only to go sit at the defendant’s table instead of the spectators’ area. He sat in the chair she indicated for him and tried his best to listen as she advised him to just follow her lead and not to try to talk to the plaintiff unless she told him to. He nodded, concentrating on keeping his breathing even and the shaking of his hands to a minimum.

A moment later, the courtroom doors opened again and a tall, well-dressed man entered. GaHae leaned over just slightly and murmured that he was Choi SiWon, the other attorney in the case. Han Geng nodded, his attention caught by the thin man behind the attorney, dressed in a fashionably cut designer suit, his red hair pulled back and piled and curled on the back of his head in what should have been a very feminine looking style, but only served to make the haughty expression he wore and the slight smirk on his lips seem colder and more menacing to Han Geng’s eye. Han Geng swallowed, then reached for the pitcher of water at the front of the table and poured himself a small amount to help wet his suddenly dry throat.

Just as he had put down the glass, the ‘all rise’ command was given and the judge entered the courtroom, moving to sit behind the bench in his long black robes. The judge was a distinguished man, white hair creeping in at his temples and only a few wrinkles beginning to show around his eyes. He exuded calm and confidence and Han Geng found himself unconsciously relaxing slightly. The judge looked over a few papers on his desk before calling on the plaintiff to come up to a seat next to the raised platform where the judge sat for questioning.

Kim HeeChul held himself with an air of self-assurance that Han Geng felt he was severely lacking. He sat next to the judge and answered the questions given to him. He talked about how his reputation was at stake because of the accident and the fine from the production company, how he had just had to fire his previous assistant and it had upset him. He looked appropriately abashed when he stated that he knew he likely should not have been driving given that fact, but he had been trying to make it on time to the set so he wouldn’t be the cause of yet another production delay. He related that, if he got a reputation for constantly causing delays and other problems, he would have difficulty getting roles in the future and it could affect his entire career. Han Geng kept his head down after a few questions from the judge, a sense of guilt swamping him as he listened to the actor’s side of the situation. GaHae placed her hand gently on his arm and he glanced up before she leaned over and told him quietly to not say anything about feeling guilty unless he was asked directly by the judge and to just relax.

A few minutes later, after a few more mundane questions from the judge that Han Geng didn’t pay attention to, HeeChul was allowed to return to his seat and Han Geng was called to the stand. He stood, taking a quick drink of water to try to wet his throat that felt like it would be dry for the rest of his life. He agreed to tell the entire truth and answer all questions as well as he was able and then sat when directed to. 

“Mr. Han, I understand you have not been in Korea long, is this correct?” The judge smiled gently at him as he asked his question and Han Geng felt himself relax further.

“Yes, sir,” he replied. “I moved here just a little over two weeks ago for a job.”

“What happened to that job? The court documents state you are unemployed.”

“The company declared bankruptcy and laid everyone off two days after I started, sir. I have been looking for a new job since then.”

“And have you made any progress yet?”

“No, sir,” Han Geng lowered his head slightly, feeling ashamed at having to admit that he still did not have a job.

“Would you please tell the court your side of the events at hand, please?”

Han Geng glanced to the side, from his attorney to HeeChul, then brought his eyes back to the judge and began to relate the story of that morning. He told everything, not even thinking to leave out the fact that he had been distracted and reaching for his phone when the accident occurred. It was in the police report, and it was likely the judge had that available to him, so it would do him no good to try to omit any of the facts. When he had finished his explanation of the events, the judge asked a few more questions, simple things about his ability to pay for the damages Mr. Kim had claimed and his ability to support himself on his savings if work continued to be scarce.

He was released after that and returned to his seat next to GaHae, taking another drink of water as the judge looked over a piece of paper he had been writing notes on. After a moment, he looked up and asked both Han Geng and HeeChul to stand.

“I know this is going to be unusual, but I don’t think anyone here wants this situation dragging out further than it has to. So, in the interest of expediency, I am going to ask if the involved parties would be willing to surrender to my judgment rather than going through the normal mediation that could take months.”

Han Geng glanced at HeeChul, noting he was briefly conferring with his attorney before looking at GaHae, who nodded an affirmative to him. He looked back at the judge and nodded before giving a verbal agreement to the judge. Shortly thereafter HeeChul did the same, though he did not look like he was quite pleased about the situation.

“In that case,” the judge continued, “my judgment is as follows: both parties will be responsible for repairs to their own vehicles. With concern to Mr. Kim’s damaged reputation, Mr. Han will pay the fine demanded by the production company. However, in light of Mr. Han’s lost employment opportunity, and taking into consideration that Mr. Kim is currently seeking a replacement for a member of his staff, Mr. Kim will employ Mr. Han for a period of not less than six months. At the end of this period, Mr. Han will be required to pay Mr. Kim the entire amount owed and continuation of such employment will be up to the two parties involved.”

Han Geng swallowed, stunned and not knowing what to think. He had to pay a large sum of money, something he had feared since he had been told he was being sued, but he was also being given a job with the very man he owed that money to. He looked over at HeeChul and was glad that looks couldn’t kill, because the man was glaring daggers at him. He did not look forward to the next six months, but at least he was not the only focus of the man’s ire, since he could see similar heated looks being directed at HeeChul’s attorney.

The judge declared the case closed and complete and rose, leaving the courtroom. Han Geng slowly slumped into his chair while the two attorneys conferred for a moment. He looked up quickly, startled, as GaHae picked up her briefcase and waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention. He could see HeeChul storming out of the courtroom behind her, his attorney following behind at a more sedate pace, a look of minor annoyance on his face.

“Come on, I’ll buy you lunch before I take you home. Mr. Kim’s manager will come by to get you later this evening to take you to your new home. Apparently, one of the perks, or possibly not in this case, is a room to yourself in Mr. Kim’s apartment. The manager will explain everything later, though.” She smiled at him slowly, waiting patiently as he gathered his wits about him and stood to follow her out of the courtroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@@@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Han Geng looked up from zipping closed the last of his suitcases as a knock sounded on the door. He glanced at his watch and sighed, thinking that the manager he was supposed to be meeting was apparently very punctual. He had been told to expect him around six pm, and according to his watch, it was 5:59. He walked to the door and opened it a crack to see a slim man with dyed-blonde hair on his doorstep. He opened it further and the man turned, looking Han Geng over with a critical eye behind his wire-framed glasses before giving a small sigh.

“You’re HanKyung? Well, at least you’ll photograph well if you get caught by the media. Are you ready? We need to get going, I have a lot to explain to you and I still have my own job to do.”

Han Geng took a moment to blink in confusion before all of what the man had said filtered through his mind. He turned and grabbed his suitcase and flung his bag over his shoulder, glancing around one last time to make sure he had everything. He followed the man out of the building, stopping along the way to turn in the key to his small room and thank the landlord for letting him move out without giving more warning. The man just waved him away muttering something about not expecting foreigners to give proper notice.

There was a black sedan with tinted windows waiting at the curb, a bulky-looking man leaning against the side of the car and apparently waiting for them. He rose and opened the door to the back seat as they approached, and helped Han Geng put his things in the spacious trunk before waving him off toward the back seat. When Han Geng sat down and pulled the door shut behind him, the man who had come to get him looked over and handed him a piece of paper attached to a slim clip board.

“This is the non-disclosure agreement. Basically, you agree to not talk about HeeChul or anything concerning HeeChul to anyone outside of the company. The terms for doing so are immediate termination along with possible financial repercussions based on the extent of the damage caused. Sign on the line at the bottom, please.”

Han Geng nodded, having understood most of what he had been told. He looked at the contract, sighing as he noted that, naturally, it was written in Korean and therefore he had even less chance of being able to understand more of the contract than he had from the verbal explanation. He sighed softly and signed on the line indicated, knowing he had little choice; after all, they had no way of knowing that Han Geng wasn’t the sort of person who would do those things. The manager took the paper back and handed him another, this one looking like a list of some sort. He sat and did his best to work out the words he recognized as the man began speaking again.

“This is the list of your job duties. It includes driving HeeChul to his schedules when KangIn is not available to do so, accompanying him to his schedules and basically helping to keep him on time. You will have to help keep track of his scripts, make sure he eats and that it is something healthy and that he doesn’t get into trouble. Also, the housekeeper quit and I’m not sure how long it will be before we can get another one, so until then that will mostly fall to you, as well. You could try to get HeeChul to help, but good luck on anything outside of his bedroom. You will also have to cook for him for now, which I will warn you may prove difficult. He’s rather picky about what he eats, lately. He’s afraid everything will make him fat. Do you have any questions?”

Han Geng blinked as the man finished speaking. He had just been given a lot of information in a short amount of time, and his brain was still translating some of it, or at least it felt that way. He thought for a moment, looking over the list he had been given briefly and thinking he needed to sit down later with another piece of paper and the Mandarin-Korean dictionary he had brought with him from China.

“What is your name?” He asked after a moment, slightly hesitant and hoping the man could understand him, since he was having trouble concentrating on Korean.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that. I’m Park JungSoo, but you might as well call me LeeTeuk, everyone does, it seems.” LeeTeuk paused, looking forward out the windshield of the car at the long line of vehicles between them and the next traffic light. “You might as well look that list over and try to familiarize yourself with it. It looks like the drive will be a little long tonight with all this traffic.”

Han Geng nodded, his gaze falling to the piece of paper in his hand, but his brain refusing to recognize the symbols written there as words of any kind. The day so far had been long and tiring, and now being thrust into a world he had no clue about with someone he didn’t know, who had sued him, no less, was just one more thing making him feel like he just wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep. 

GaHae had done as she had said she would, and bought him a nice lunch before taking him home so he could pack. He had been so nervous that morning, he hadn’t noticed that there had been hardly anyone near the courtroom they had been in, and it wasn’t until they got outside that they had seen any reporters at all. The reporters had all been clustered around HeeChul and his attorney, trying to get one or the other to comment on the outcome. Han Geng didn’t know if they had or not, since he had left the television off all afternoon, but he hoped not. The last thing he needed was his face being splashed all over the newspapers and his humiliation being written out for everyone to see.

He took a deep breath, trying not to dwell on the outcome of the day. He had called his mother that afternoon and had barely kept from crying on the phone as she had tried to point out all the positives she could see. She mentioned that here was a second chance for him to get into the entertainment business, even if he wasn’t dancing or acting, he would still be part of things, and perhaps when the six months were up, he could get a recommendation from one of his co-workers, or even his employer. She seemed so certain that he would be able to win over everyone just by smiling at them that he didn’t have the heart to tell her all of his doubts and fears about the situation. Instead he had agreed with her, letting her think she had managed to cheer him up and cried after he hung up the phone. He missed her, and China, more than he had thought he was going to. While he had been hoping to come to Korea to visit, he had never dreamed he would be living here, or that he would be stuck here for six months, when he really just wanted to be home.

His attention drifted, and he was surprised when the car came to a halt in a parking garage, and the other men got out of the car. He hurried to follow, taking his bags from the trunk and following the two as they walked into the building and to the main elevator in the lobby on the ground floor. The décor was plain but yet it was obvious that this building was leagues above the place he had been staying before. The elevator interior was paneled wood and brushed steel, a camera placed unobtrusively in one corner.

They exited the elevator on the tenth floor, LeeTeuk explaining that he and KangIn lived on the floor below, so they were always nearby if they were needed. He was handed another sheet of paper and asked to destroy it once he had entered the numbers listed into his cell phone. He nodded, glad that LeeTeuk was the one who knocked and then used his key to enter the apartment first. 

Han Geng’s first sight as he walked in was a stunning view of the city from a bank of windows that took up almost the entire top half of the outside wall. A black leather couch sat in front of a glass-topped, wrought iron coffee table and across from a big screen television, which was tuned to some variety show or other. Han Geng wasn’t sure which since it was one he hadn’t watched yet. All of that was quickly ignored as his attention was drawn to the thin, red-haired man who was sitting on the couch in a pair of pink and white pajamas with what looked like a Hello Kitty print all over them.

HeeChul looked up and took in the two managers and his new assistant who was standing there gaping like a fish. He smirked slightly and turned back to his show, not bothering to look at the man as he spoke.

“I’m hungry. Feed me.”

Han Geng blinked at him. Things had just gotten a lot worse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

Han Geng dropped his things in the room that KangIn said was his, then walked into the kitchen and looked through the cupboards and the refrigerator to see what he had to work with. He was hungry, he was exhausted, and the only thing his mind could put together was Fried Rice. He had what he needed – rice, vegetables and eggs – and he knew it was something he could probably cook to perfection in his sleep. He looked around in the cupboards, finding one deep frying pan for the rice, and another, smaller, pan for the fried eggs that would go on top and got to work.

What little he had seen of his own room was nice, but plain. The bed was narrow, but would be big enough for just him, since he didn’t thrash around a lot when he slept. There had been a single chest of drawers, and a closet along the front wall. A small table had been next to the bed, with a chair and a lamp. It had been thoroughly cleaned after the previous assistant had moved out, apparently, if the strong smell of lemons had been any indication. He doubted that he would need as much storage space as the small room provided, but he was glad to have it, regardless. 

“Let me see your phone, and I’ll transfer HeeChul’s schedule to it,” LeeTeuk said as he walked into the kitchen and leaned against a counter near where Han Geng was working. Han Geng didn’t think such a transfer was possible, but handed his phone over, regardless, trying not to be embarrassed of the old, minimal flip-phone his mother had given him when he started college. He hadn’t had the money to get a new one yet. He had been planning to buy one once he got his first paycheck after arriving in Korea, but that plan had been sidetracked, like so many other plans.

“This is your phone?” LeeTeuk gave him a look that Han Geng could not interpret, then handed it back. “I’ll get you a new one from the company in the morning, and I’ll have someone show you how to use it. I’ll send KangIn up in a little while with the keys for the car you’ll be using and directions on how to get to HeeChul’s first schedule. He needs to be there absolutely no later than five am for hair and makeup, or the director will have all our heads. I’ll bring you your new phone before you have to leave for anything else.”

Han Geng frowned slightly as LeeTeuk breezed out of the kitchen and toward the front door, calling out something to HeeChul about making sure he slept and to be nice. KangIn stepped into the kitchen briefly on his way out, smiling slightly at Han Geng’s expression. 

“Don’t worry about Teukie. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t know you. By the time your six months are up, he’ll be mothering you, trust me. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Han Geng nodded as KangIn left. He seriously doubted that LeeTeuk would be acting like his mother, since it certainly seemed like he didn’t like Han Geng at all. Not that he blamed him, though. After all, he had been forced on them just as much as they had been forced on him, and no one was happy with the situation, it seemed. 

He had gone back to cooking, and let his thoughts drift back to his mother teaching him to make this dish in the small kitchen of the dumpling shop they had worked so hard to buy. He had taken a job in a small dance studio, teaching ballet to children in the evenings when he was free from his own studies to help her earn the last of the money they needed. Though it was her name on the papers, it was a family restaurant, since they all helped out and she insisted in giving them all small shares of the profits when there were enough. His small savings he had been living on had been from the dumpling shop, a secret his mother had kept from him while he had been in school. She had known how much giving up dance had impacted his life, and had wanted to provide him with a way to maybe make at least one of his dreams come true, even if nothing could be done for the original dream.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a stream of rapid Korean, which he only caught a bit of. His answer came out jumbled and run-together in his surprise, and he turned to see HeeChul standing behind him, laughing.

“I didn’t notice this morning, but your accent is fucking terrible. Where the fuck did you learn to speak Korean?”

Han Geng blinked. There had certainly been a word or two in there that he didn’t know. Yet, in spite of that, he thought he understood what he was being asked and opened his mouth to reply, only to have more questions thrown at him. 

“Where are from, anyway? And what are you cooking? It’s not going to make me fat is it? If you’re trying to make me fat I will have revenge.”

Han Geng shook his head, his answers coming out in a confused mixture of Korean and Mandarin, resulting in the only three words HeeChul understood being “Beijing Fried Rice.”

He turned back to the food, served up two plates of it, topped each with a fried egg and carried them both to the table just outside the kitchen. HeeChul followed, looking at the food as though it was going to leap up and bite him. Han Geng fetched utensils and handed some to HeeChul, who sat down and poked at the rice. Han Geng sighed, remembering LeeTeuk vaguely saying something about HeeChul being worried about getting fat and thought he had possibly heard something about that from HeeChul himself a moment ago, maybe.

“It won’t make you fat,” he said. “I eat this all the time in China.”

HeeChul looked at him with skepticism, poking at the rice again before taking a small bite. He looked up as he chewed, looking Han Geng over carefully, as though looking for even an ounce of fat on his frame. Apparently satisfied, he started eating with a bit more enthusiasm once he took his first full bite.

KangIn returned while they were eating, handing Han Geng a piece of paper with a map and directions on it, which he immediately began studying to try and figure out where exactly he was going. He dimly heard the sound of a plate sliding across the wooden table and ignored it in favor of trying to get some kind of mental image of where the directions would lead. It was only once KangIn had announced he was leaving and that he had left the keys for the car on the little table near the door that he looked up and realized KangIn had eaten the rest of his dinner when he wasn’t looking.

He stared at the empty plate for a moment, every single grain of rice cleaned from it, trying to decide if he was put out or not. In the end, he just shook his head and took the plate to the sink and started rinsing it. He hadn’t been all that hungry in days, so he wasn’t worried about his dinner going missing. By the time he was done rinsing the dish, HeeChul had finished and gone back to the couch to watch television. Han Geng glanced from HeeChul, laughing on the plush couch in his pajamas, to the dish left sitting on the table and sighed softly. He picked up the dish and rinsed it, then cleaned the pans he had used and made sure everything was in the dishwasher.

By the time he was done, HeeChul’s show was over and when Han Geng turned to the living room to see if HeeChul needed anything else, the man was gone. The soft click of HeeChul’s bedroom door closing let him know where he had gone off to. Han Geng picked up the paper KangIn had given him with the directions for the morning and went to his room, then sat on the bed with the paper listing his duties as HeeChul’s Personal Assistant and temporary Housekeeper. The house was clean, he didn’t see anything else on the list he needed to do that night, since it seemed most of it had to do with making HeeChul happy when he was doing his schedules, and they had a very early start the next morning. 

Han Geng gathered his towel and toiletries and took them into the small bathroom attached to his bedroom. He didn’t linger in the warm spray, since it started to get cold quickly, instead washing hair and body quickly and then drying off as best he could in the moist air of the bathroom. He cleaned his teeth, ran a comb through his hair, thinking it was getting a little long and he probably needed a cut soon. When he was finished, he stepped out of the bathroom, the towel still wrapped around his hips and threatening to fall with each step he took.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he stepped into the bedroom and saw HeeChul sitting on the end of his bed, reading a manhwa. He grabbed at the knotted ends of the towel as they almost slipped off his hip and tried to make his brain put together a sentence in Korean that would make sense.

“Yah,” HeeChul said lazily as he turned a page. “You need to wake me up by three-thirty; I don’t want to be late. If you make me late, I’ll find a way to get rid of you, no matter what that judge said.”

Han Geng stood and just gaped as HeeChul closed his book and stood, stretching his arms above his head, the shirt of his pajamas rising and showing a hint of smooth, creamy skin between it and the top of his pants. HeeChul glanced at Han Geng and then walked out of the room as though nothing was bothering him. Han Geng had just removed his towel when the door opened again and HeeChul popped his head back in. He scrambled to make sure the towel was covering the important bits. He wasn’t shy, but the last thing he needed was to be accused of being a pervert because his employer decided not to knock before opening a door.

“I almost forgot, you need to do laundry tomorrow. I hate these pajamas.”

HeeChul closed the door and Han Geng heaved a sigh of relief as he heard HeeChul’s door close. He dropped the towel and swiftly got dressed for bed, then picked up the damp material and hung it over the shower door in the bathroom to dry. When he finally climbed into his bed and set the alarm on his phone for three -- so he could make sure to have coffee and a light breakfast ready when he woke HeeChul, just like his job duties stated – he thought he would fall asleep quickly and sleep well. His thoughts were stuck on rapid Korean he didn’t always understand, and when he finally did sleep, his dreams were filled with red hair, flashing eyes and a glimpse of smooth, creamy skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@@@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HeeChul sat under a striped umbrella, sipping a cool drink as he waited for the camera crew to reposition the equipment for another take of the scene they had just shot. They needed a second angle for editing, as they always did with these type of dramatic scenes, and so he was forced to wait in the heat, trying his best not to sweat in the clothes they had given him, which would have been more appropriate for fall than the beginning of summer. Still, he was an actor and he had no choice but to act like it didn’t bother him, like he wasn’t annoyed at the idiot intern the director had hired to help the crew who kept making stupid mistakes that even HeeChul knew not to make, and delaying the filming. He shifted his gaze from the crew that was struggling to fix the intern’s latest mistake, to his manager and his new assistant, who were going over his schedule for the rest of the day and trying to rearrange things since he obviously was not going to be done here anywhere near on time.

Both Teukie and Han Geng were dressed more appropriately for the weather, both in jeans and t-shirts, Han Geng wearing a name tag on a string around his neck so no one would kick him out until they learned his face. It didn’t even have his name on it, just ‘HeeChul’s Assistant.’ He frowned as Teukie finished talking to Han Geng and walked away to speak to the producers, no doubt making a polite but firm comment about how tight HeeChul’s schedule was and how it was necessary that things be finished in as timely a manner as possible. HeeChul rolled his eyes. No matter how many times Teukie had that talk with people, it never changed the industry. Inevitably, someone’s cousin or brother-in-law or son got hired as an intern or a production assistant, and made everyone else’s job harder for a month or so until they got tired of the hours, or the one who got them the job complained to another family member and they were given a job elsewhere. It was simply the way things worked.

His gaze returned to Han Geng as someone walking past called out a warning and then began scolding the man for not moving quickly enough. HeeChul tilted his head as he watched, recognizing the Assistant Director and frowning when he walked away to reveal Han Geng with a very obvious, very large coffee stain down his front. He watched as Teukie walked back to Han Geng and rolled his eyes, then took a card from his wallet and handed it to Han Geng, gesturing at a nearby clothing store.

HeeChul watched his new assistant for a moment as he walked away, then rose and smiled as the director called out that they were ready to finish shooting the scene. He walked to where he was to start the scene and made it appear that he was waiting patiently for the lead actress to arrive from the air-conditioned room they had directed her to wait in. No striped umbrellas in heavy suits for her, no sir. She was known to her fans for being gracious and kind, but HeeChul had never met an actress who was more conceited than this one. Even HeeChul’s own considerable – and well-deserved, he thought – ego paled in comparison. Still, he smiled at her as she arrived, the both of them fully aware that here they were in the public eye, not only from the cameras of the production team filming the scene, but also from the reporters and the fans just a few hundred feet away behind the fences erected that morning to keep them out of the filming area.

The scene began filming and HeeChul delivered his lines just as he had before, making sure there was no considerable difference, since this was one of the scenes that would end one episode of the drama and begin another. His co-star, however, had no such thought, since her performance was obviously different than before. HeeChul could see the director twitching in his chair out of the corner of his eye, but then the most important part of the scene was coming up and HeeChul’s attention went into making the kiss look real and passionate while staying chaste and innocent. When the director called ‘cut,’ HeeChul gratefully released his co-star and bowed to her and the crew, thanking them for their hard work and thanking the director, making quick apologies for his very tight schedule before turning and walking briskly to the room where his clothes and other things had been left. 

He opened the door and stepped inside, pausing once inside, hearing the heavy door close behind him. His assistant stood in front of him with his back to HeeChul, a very smooth, muscular back that made his pulse pound in his ears in a way his beautiful co-stars never did. Han Geng was pulling the tags off of a new shirt he had obviously purchased at the clothing store Teukie had directed him to. HeeChul took a deep breath and stepped forward, slipping the jacket from his shoulders and laying it across the back of a chair while he started loosening his tie and unbuttoning the dress shirt underneath.

Han Geng started a bit, nodding to him, then went back to trying to pull the tag from the shirt. HeeChul watched him struggle with it for a moment, then grabbed it from him and gave it a swift yank before holding the new shirt up to look at it. It was plain, red, and obviously not something HeeChul would ever be allowed to be seen in.

“What did you do, pick the cheapest thing in the store? You had the company credit card; you could have bought something more stylish than this.” He tossed it to Han Geng, then stripped off the tie and shirt and reached for his own shirt, something designer and certainly not cheap or plain.

He did everything he could to keep his eyes away from his assistant and to ignore the man’s presence, but for some reason, it was swiftly becoming difficult. After he had arranged his shirt to his liking, he reached for the button of the suit pants he still wore, then paused and looked over his shoulder where his assistant was completely absorbed in trying to figure out how to work his new touch-phone.

“Yah, we need to leave as soon as possible so I’m not late to that photo-shoot. Go get the car and bring it around while I finish getting dressed,” HeeChul said, turning and watching in the mirror as Han Geng got up and nodded, fishing in his pocket for the keys and gathering his own things before walking out the door.

HeeChul sighed once he was gone, dropping his head forward on his chest and taking a deep breath before removing the slacks and pulling on his jeans. He hadn’t had to deal much with attraction in a while, partly due to a simple lack of time. Normally, it was him politely turning down some woman or going out with someone once or twice, then citing differences in personality or coming up with anything other than the truth. Maybe, he thought, he just needed to get laid.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

Han Geng finished piling the dishes into the dishwasher and pressed the button to start the machine, then wiped down the counters and glanced out into the living room. HeeChul was lounging on the couch watching television, enjoying the fact that his schedule that day would be coming to him instead of the other way around, for once. It had been a month already since Han Geng had moved in and become HeeChul’s personal assistant, and they had yet to find a housekeeper, so that job was still falling to Han Geng. He woke before HeeChul did, went to sleep after he did, attended all HeeChul’s schedules with him, cooked and cleaned and did the laundry. HeeChul was rude and demanding most of the time, but on a few occasions, when they had gotten home early and there hadn’t been much to do in cleaning up the house, since they spent most of their time out of the house, HeeChul had insisted they stop on the way home to pick up some beer and soju and had then insisted that Han Geng drink with him.

The first time, Han Geng had ended up with a raging hangover the next morning from the soju and he had since then refused to drink it; he preferred beer, anyway. The last time they had done that, just a couple of days ago, HeeChul had even gotten an imported Chinese beer for him. It had not been one of his favorites, but he had been surprised and oddly touched by the thought behind the gesture. He hadn’t said that to HeeChul, though. His dreams at night were still full of the few glimpses of smooth, creamy skin he had seen here and there in the last month, and he was glad that today, he had a day off. 

HeeChul had paid him the day before, since it had been the end of the month, and he had been somewhat surprised at the amount. He had not expected his pay to be so much, since he was also being given a room in HeeChul’s home and his food was paid for by HeeChul. Still, he wasn’t going to argue and have the amount reduced. He had counted it all very carefully the night before, and then separated it into three stacks. One was this month’s portion of the money he owed HeeChul for his fine from the production company, one was money he was sending to his mother to help open a second location for the dumpling shop, and the third, much smaller, stack was for his own things he was likely to need the next month. He had included what he considered a generous amount for toiletries, a small amount for a few new clothes, since he had not brought much with him from China, planning on buying more with his earnings and even a little bit for some form of relaxation and entertainment for himself.

He made sure HeeChul knew he was leaving, and that the production crew would be arriving in about a half an hour to film the segment, then slipped his shoes on and was out the door. He had left the keys to the car on the little table near the door, since he didn’t plan on going too far, and if he did want to leave walking distance, he could just catch a bus. His first stop was the store down the street where he wired the money to his mother before sending her a text message with the information. If it was already sent and there was nothing she could do about it, she would be less likely to send it back and insist he spend it on himself. Once he was done with that task and the message was sent, he continued walking, pausing once to pick up a cold bottle of water at a convenience store, since the afternoon was becoming hot already, and then continued on to some clothing stores he had noticed while driving HeeChul anywhere and everywhere.

In spite of visiting four clothing stores before finding things that fit both his taste and his budget, he felt like the day had been more relaxing than any he had had since coming to Korea. He stopped at an ice cream shop and bought the cheapest thing on the menu, then sat in a booth in the back corner of the store where it was slightly shadowed and cool to eat his small cup of vanilla ice cream. He had just finished the last of the sweet treat when his phone began to ring. He glanced at the caller ID, then answered it when he saw LeeTeuk’s name displayed and not HeeChul’s.

“HanKyung, look, I know this is your day off, but I’m in the middle of a meeting, and I left a file in my office at home. Would you be willing to bring it by the SM building?”

Han Geng blinked. Wasn’t this what KangIn was for? He opened his mouth to ask just that when LeeTeuk continued.

“I would normally just have KangIn bring it to me, but he’s at home sick. He can barely get out of bed, much less make it all the way here. I’d really appreciate it if you would do this for me, HanKyung.”

Han Geng gave his agreement, made sure LeeTeuk understood he didn’t have the car and was told that was fine, he just needed that file before the meeting was over in about two hours. So, Han Geng hung up the phone and put it safely back in his pocket, threw his trash out and hurried out the door. It took only a few minutes to reach the apartment building, since he hadn’t gone very far, and he leaned back against the wall of the elevator as it rose up to the ninth floor, catching his breath. When the elevator doors opened, he made his way down the hallway, checking the numbers as he went to make sure he got the right apartment, since he had only been to LeeTeuk and KangIn’s apartment one time previous. 

He knocked on the door and waited, listening for a moment when it seemed that his knock had gone unheard or been ignored. He had just raised his fist to knock again when the door opened and KangIn peeked out and then pushed a blue folder out to him. He wanted to say thank you, but KangIn barely waited for him to grab the folder before letting go and closing the door, presumably to go back to bed.

Instead of going up to the next floor and getting the car keys from HeeChul’s apartment – Han Geng had yet to refer to it as ‘home’ in his own mind – he went back down and walked to the nearest bus stop one street over. Fifteen minutes and two routes later, his bus appeared and he boarded quickly, finding a seat where he could sit comfortably without sharing a bench with anyone else. While most people were friendly and never minded sharing, he had had a few uncomfortable experiences while he had been looking for work a month before, enough so that he always sat by himself now, if possible. He sighed and settled in for the fifteen-minute ride to his stop. He had learned quickly to stay out of the way at HeeChul’s filmings and photo shoots, as well. He didn’t think anyone else had overheard what the Assistant Director had hissed at him after very deliberately spilling hot coffee on him, but the words were something Han Geng wouldn’t forget. He’d been thankful to walk away from that one with little more than a stained shirt and a minor scald on his stomach.

Now, he kept his eyes open and on who was around him when he was at the set with HeeChul, making sure that unless HeeChul was likely to need him for something, he stayed hidden in a corner where he could see HeeChul, but no one else was likely to notice him. In spite of those minor things, though, and HeeChul’s attitude, he found he was enjoying his job. He was slowly beginning to realize that most of HeeChul’s bluster was just that and that HeeChul was a much more caring individual than he seemed. After all, the friends who occasionally dropped by the apartment were genuinely nice people, and they wouldn’t be friends with someone like HeeChul unless there were some redeeming qualities hidden in him somewhere.

His thoughts were interrupted as he saw his stop coming up soon. He got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to the building, two streets over and a little way further down. Once he arrived, it was a simple matter of introducing himself to the receptionist and asking where LeeTeuk’s meeting was. He followed the woman’s directions and managed to find his way there with only one wrong turn, and knocked softly on the door, not wanting to disturb things too much. LeeTeuk stepped out a moment later, taking the file and glancing inside briefly to make sure everything was there. The smile he turned on Han Geng was the biggest he had ever seen on this man since he had met him a month before, and he couldn’t help but smile in response. 

“Thank you so much for this HanKyung. Hopefully I’ll be done here soon, and if you’d like, I can give you a ride back. Go ahead and have a look around the building for a while. I think some of the trainees are probably in the dance rooms downstairs; they get used to people watching, so don’t worry about it. Just ask the receptionist if you need directions, I’ll call you when we’re done here.”

Han Geng merely nodded, not wanting to inconvenience the man, but not wanting to be rude, either. He had nothing to do back at HeeChul’s but cook dinner and since he didn’t think the filming they were doing that day was likely to be over yet, he saw no point in hurrying back. He didn’t want to be in the way or cause problems for HeeChul, since that would only make his time in Korea that much more difficult. He slowly started to wander back toward the elevator, thinking as he went that it had been too long since he had done much dancing. Perhaps, if one of the practice rooms wasn’t being used, he could sneak in and try a few moves he had seen in an MV the week before and had wanted to try ever since.

The hallway was almost deserted as he stepped out of the elevator, two young men entering the stairwell a few feet to the right the only people around. He walked down the hall, seeing lights and movement in most of the rooms as he went, but the one at the end was empty and dark. He opened the door and stepped inside, fumbling for the light switch before turning on the lights in the front half of the room, where the mirrors were. The room was small, but big enough for him to practice a few things without having to hold back at all. A barre was attached to the wall opposite the door, and a small, portable CD player was against the wall of mirrors, plugged in to a wall socket placed in the corner. Han Geng dropped his things next to the CD player and slid his shoes off, leaving them there, as well. Socks may not be the preferred thing to dance in, but for what he wanted to do first, they would be better than athletic shoes.

He stepped up to the barre, beginning a routine of moves that had been taught to him since childhood, his body remembering moves that his mind seemed to have forgotten. A short while later, he used to barre to stretch a bit, then moved into the middle of the room, discarding the casual button-down he had been wearing and leaving just the black wife-beater underneath. He stepped into the middle of the room and executed a few turns, then later on a few leaps, his body feeling light and free like it hadn’t in a long time. He paused and began a different style of dance, something he hadn’t been trained in, but that he had wanted to try out since he saw it. He had been envious of the creativity and originality he saw in hip-hop and other pop performances, the dance flowing and relaying things that ballet, with its regimented moves and particular style, made a little more difficult.

He spun, then nearly lost his balance and would have fallen if not for the years of training he had been through. He came to a stop and turned to face the door, bowing quickly to the person standing there, trying desperately to put together the necessary words to apologize if he had been in a room someone needed to use.

“No, no, it’s okay; I just thought I forgot something. Are you one of the newer trainees, I don’t think I’ve met you before?”

The young man stepped forward, holding out a hand, his longish dark hair falling into his eyes before he pushed it back with his free hand. Han Geng shook his hand, smiling slightly at the bubbly enthusiasm of the man, managing to get out that no, he was not a trainee.

“DongHae, what’s taking so long, I want to go home!” 

Another young man stepped into the room, stopping as he took in DongHae and Han Geng and tilting his head to one side in question as he looked at DongHae.

“Sorry, HyukJae, I found my shirt, but I saw this guy dancing. He’s great; I got kind of caught up watching him.”

HyukJae sighed, then smiled a gummy smile, holding out a hand to Han Geng, pausing before he shook his hand.

“I know you from somewhere, don’t I? Are you a trainee?” He paused, then his eyes widened. “You! You’re the guy that was in that accident with HeeChul! I saw your picture on the internet.” 

Han Geng dropped his head, embarrassment flooding him. He could hear fierce whispers between the two men, but didn’t want to bother to try to hear what they were saying. Instead, he walked back to where he had left his things and started to put on his shoes, thinking it would be best if he left now.

“Oh, wait, you don’t have to go.”

Han Geng looked up at the one who had spoken, DongHae if he remembered the name right. He had a look of concern on his face and seemed genuinely upset by the idea that Han Geng was going to leave.

“You’re an amazing dancer, why are you here if you’re not a trainee?”

Han Geng sighed and finished tying his second shoe, then paused, resting his elbows on his bent knees where he sat on the floor. 

“I stopped dancing, I’m only in Korea for about five more months. Then I go back to China and look for a job there.”

HyukJae walked over and plopped down across from him on the hardwood floor. 

“Well, if you’re not a trainee, and you stopped dancing, why are you in the building? You’re not trying to stalk HeeChul, are you?”

The sound of DongHae hissing his name made HyukJae look away from Han Geng and then wince and utter a small sound of pain as he got a quick flick to his forehead from DongHae, who then sat next to him. Han Geng looked at HyukJae in confusion, having heard a term he wasn’t familiar with.

“Don’t mind HyukJae, he talks without thinking, sometimes.”

“No,” Han Geng replied. “It’s okay. I understand why you would want to know. I’m not sure what ‘stalk’ means, but I’m not trying to hurt HeeChul. I’m his assistant. I just brought something for LeeTeuk, and he told me to wait down here for him.”

Twin expressions of surprise and understanding lit the faces across from him, followed by smiles from both. Han Geng suddenly wondered if that had been something he shouldn’t have said to these two as they glanced at each other and then back to him.

“Well, if you’re going to wait, would you mind helping us out a little? We’re trying to choreograph something for a new trio group, but with just the two of us, seeing how it will look has been kind of hard, and we’d like to fix it before we have to teach it.”

Han Geng smiled and nodded. He had nothing else to do while he waited for LeeTeuk.

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HeeChul sat on the couch, watching a variety show he had filmed a few weeks before and sipping away at his second beer while he waited for his food and his assistant to arrive. He had bothered to order enough for the both of them, since he had technically given the Chinese man the rest of the day off, and he thought he might as well be nice on occasion.

He looked up when he heard the sound of a key in the lock a moment later, looking back to the television as Han Geng walked in. HeeChul barely acknowledged him when he said hello as he walked through the living room to his bedroom. Han Geng’s hands were full of bags that HeeChul was sure would be full of cheap, non-designer clothes that would practically burn his eyes out with their ugly. He sighed and got up before Han Geng could come back out, entering the bedroom without knocking and dumping the contents of the bags onto the bed. Han Geng stood to the side, his mouth opening and closing like a fish until HeeChul turned to him, a t-shirt in one hand and a receipt in the other.

“Yah! What the hell am I paying you good money for if this is the shit you are going to buy? What did you do with the rest, put it in the bank or something?”

Han Geng closed his mouth, silently taking both the shirt and the receipt from HeeChul, his expression closed and HeeChul thought he saw annoyance in the flashing brown eyes.

“I asked you a question,” he said as Han Geng began removing tags and sorting the items he had bought into piles to be washed. 

“What did you want me to make for dinner?” 

“I ordered dinner for us, already. Now answer my question, why did you buy cheap clothes when I paid you enough to afford better?”

Han Geng didn’t answer, instead grabbing a pile of clothes and leaving the room, leaving HeeChul trailing after him indignantly, demanding an answer. He was interrupted mid-rant by the ringing of the doorbell. He walked to the door and answered it, paying the man and giving him a generous tip before closing the door in his face and walking to the table to put down the bag of food.

He sat at the table, deciding that if Han Geng was going to be silent about the matter, then he would just have to handle things in his own way. Whatever Han Geng had decided to do with the rest of the money, he couldn’t have his assistant looking like he was shopping out of the bargain bin. This would require some careful thought, but he was sure he could come up with a way to make the man accept something better. If nothing else, he’d just make it one of his job duties, something like wearing a uniform of his choosing.

He took the food out of the bag, pushing the meal he had bought for the Chinese man over to him, then cracking his own chopsticks apart and digging into his food. The filming that afternoon had been long and had seemed to drag on as he had to give the tour of his apartment several times, and insist several more that, no, he was not giving a peek into his assistant’s bedroom, since the man was not home and had no say in the matter. It was one thing for HeeChul to walk in whenever he wanted, that was fine, but for a total stranger and the entire country by extension it was rude and not something HeeChul was going to allow in his own home.

He got up a moment later to retrieve his beer from the table in the living room, only to find it nearly empty when he picked it up. He gave a blustery sigh, drained what was left and muttered on his way to the kitchen about the stress of living in a fishbowl and having stupid camera crews and annoying interviewers traipsing through his home all afternoon. He returned a moment later no longer muttering, since he was too busy taking a large drink of his third beer, plopping an opened can down in front of his assistant as he passed by way of apology for his behavior. It wasn’t that he was oblivious to how he came off to other people, he just largely didn’t care. He was going to say what he thought, when he thought it as often as he could, especially since there were so many times when he couldn’t say anything that he really thought for fear of being sent on a nice, long ‘vacation.’

That thought brought up another as he watched Han Geng pick up the can of beer and take a drink, the muscles in the man’s neck working as he swallowed, head tilted back, neck stretched out and practically begging to be bitten. HeeChul definitely needed to make a call to KiBum the next day, see what the other actor had been up to and see if they could get together sometime soon. Sometime very soon, if HeeChul had any say in the matter.

He went quickly back to the food in front of him once Han Geng lowered the can, making sure not to make eye contact, certain that something in his eyes or his expression might give him away. He wasn’t drunk enough to get away with making a pass at his admittedly hot, but very likely very straight, assistant. Not yet, at any rate. That was something HeeChul determined he should really remedy. He did not want to be having these types of thoughts completely sober, especially since he didn’t need to be awake until late the next morning; well, if eight in the morning could be considered late.

HeeChul took the opportunity to grab more beers from the refrigerator for them while Han Geng tossed the trash in the appropriate bins and then HeeChul dragged the man to the couch, insisting that he was going to take this chance to teach him more about current Korean popular culture, in the form of watching television with HeeChul. This particular evening that translated to watching the episodes of HeeChul’s drama that he had recorded and saved for later playback. He caught Han Geng glancing at him from the corner of his eye and turned to him, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have to evaluate my own performance, see if there are things I need to work on.” He turned back to the screen as the opening credits of the first episode of the evening began. “In case you’re wondering, yes, I also read the comments on the message boards about me. I’m a member of every fan café for me in Korea.”

He didn’t pay attention to Han Geng’s reaction, only sipped at his beer and sat in to watch the drama. He started to fast-forward when his scene was over, but stopped at a small noise of protest from beside him. He turned his head after he had paused the playback, not bothering to ask, knowing that he would eventually either get an answer or be allowed to go on without further comments.

Han Geng’s slightly ducked head and the small fluster in the way he moved his hands was almost endearing, but it was the stumbled Korean that began to get on HeeChul’s nerves. He raised a brow, one finger tapping an irritated rhythm on the side of his beer can.

“I was watching this episode when I found out you were suing me. I didn’t get to watch all of it.”

“You watch the show?”

“I stopped when I started working for you, since I was never here when it was on.”

HeeChul made a small sound that could have meant ‘hmm, that’s interesting,’ ‘please, tell me another one’ or just ‘oh, ok then.’ He looked back to the television, and then glanced back at his assistant before hitting the ‘play’ button one more time and setting the remote down while he settled back to watch again.

Three episodes and several beers later, HeeChul was feeling rather happy with things. He was pleasantly buzzed, he hadn’t seen too much that he thought was cause for further reflection in his performance, and Han Geng seemed to be similarly happy with life, if the silly smile on his face was any indication. HeeChul leaned forward and put down the empty can in his hand and took the one from Han Geng, placing it next to his own. He nudged the Chinese man in the side, smirking when he got a small, smothered giggle in response.

“Time for bed,” he said, the sound muffled by Han Geng’s shirt as he lost his balance slightly when he leaned forward a bit too much. The two managed to get off the couch without falling, and HeeChul leaned on Han Geng as they crossed the room, since he seemed slightly less drunk. They were almost to HeeChul’s door when he tripped. A dizzying moment later, HeeChul felt his back make painful contact with the wall between the two bedroom doors. The wall was cold against his back, and something warm was against his front. He opened his eyes and started to look up, but paused when he saw the pulse beating just under the skin that was so close to his face.

He heard Han Geng say something that he thought might have been “are you okay?” but he really didn’t care what was being said, or how he was twisted slightly between Han Geng and the wall, and it was slightly painful. All that mattered in that moment was the skin he had wanted to taste and nibble on, and the fact that skin was just centimeters from his mouth. He didn’t stop to think, he simply leaned forward and captured a bit of that skin gently between his teeth, feeling the pulse quicken under his lips as his tongue played over it. He heard a gasp from above him, and then a soft moan, which went straight to his hardening cock.

Hands grabbed his hips and moved him, shoving him more firmly back against the wall, fixing the slight twist he had been in. He was pinned by a set of hips and the hands moved up, under his shirt and across his ribs. He let go of the bit of skin between his teeth, his lips and tongue marking a path up Han Geng’s neck to his jaw before Han Geng turned his head and claimed HeeChul’s lips. HeeChul moaned again, Han Geng taking control of the kiss as his hands moved back down to HeeChul’s hips. He made a noise of protest, thinking that Han Geng meant to stop this. Instead, his hips were gripped firmly and he was pulled forward as Han Geng ground their hips together.

HeeChul moaned, the half-hardness he had been doing his best to ignore all night turning to a raging hard-on in what seemed like an instant. Han Geng broke the kiss, his forehead resting on the wall near HeeChul’s head as their hips continued to grind together. HeeChul’s excitement rose with every rotation of their hips, the sound of Han Geng’s breathing next to his ear and the mumbled Mandarin mixed with his name only serving to send him higher. One of Han Geng’s hands left his hip, moving to his ass and pulling him even closer and that was all it took. All of HeeChul’s frustration and stress over the last month broke and he let out a strangled scream as he came, warmth spreading in his pants. 

A moment later the panting in his ear stopped with a soft cry of his name and he leaned his head back, trying to keep his eyes open while he waited for Han Geng to lift his head. He was sated and warm, securely held in Han Geng’s arms. He wanted to wait, to tell Han Geng he had been waiting for something like that to happen between them for a while, but he was so tired. Before Han Geng could lift his head, HeeChul felt his eyes drift shut and he let his head fall forward, nuzzling into Han Geng’s neck as he fell soundly asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

Han Geng was sitting across the room, beyond the area where all the filming took place, one finger tapping and dragging at something on the screen of his cell phone. HeeChul frowned at him, watching him unnoticed as the people around him chatted with each other and the staff around all of them made late minute touch-ups to hair, makeup and wardrobe. They had finished fussing with HeeChul and moved on to KiBum sitting in front of him, leaving him free to glare at his assistant. The man had been friendly, competent, everything HeeChul had come to expect from him. He had also done a very good job of acting like nothing had happened. It had begun to make HeeChul irritable with people and that was not something HeeChul could accept. 

He had woken up two weeks before with a headache and the very unpleasant sensation of having slept in his own mess. He had thought it all must have been a dream at first as he showered and dressed, leaving his hair damp and tied back in a tail since the stylists at the set would do whatever they wanted with it anyway. He had found a glass of water and some painkillers on the table next to his bed when he came out of the bathroom and so he knew that Han Geng knew he was awake. He had taken some of the pills and walked out of the room while sipping at his glass of water. He had plopped down at the table and started looking over that day’s script again while he waited for his breakfast. It was when he looked up at his assistant and noticed the red mark on his throat, right where HeeChul had been nibbling on his neck in his dream that he realized it had actually happened.

He hadn’t been able to think at the time of what he should say, and Han Geng seemed content to go on as though it wasn’t an issue, so he had left it at that, deciding to concentrate on the scene they were filming that day. There were only two weeks of filming left, and he wanted to make sure that they were some of his best of the entire drama, so he had allowed the silence between them to continue. Things had been much as they were before, though HeeChul noticed that Han Geng was a little quieter. He had also noticed that the man wasn’t around constantly like he had been before. One night the week before, he had looked over for his assistant and had spent five minutes quietly searching for him before asking LeeTeuk in annoyance where the hell the man was. The answer that he was given other duties that evening had not set well with HeeChul. He may not have had a choice in the man being hired, but he was HeeChul’s assistant, not just some trainee SM Entertainment could order around as they willed.

HeeChul had been seething in silence ever since. Han Geng had never mentioned where he was, despite HeeChul dropping all kinds of hints that he wanted to know. Han Geng’s continued silence was beginning to annoy him to a point he didn’t quite know what to do with. Other assistants who had annoyed him had been fired; but he didn’t want to fire Han Geng, he wanted things to be the way they were. He wanted to sit up drinking with him, eat with him, talk with him, insult his accent like he used to. The man spoke so little lately, there was almost nothing to insult. HeeChul realized he was starting to pout as the PD called out for the staff to leave the set and brought his thoughts back to what they were doing. It took a force of will to drag his eyes and attention away from the Chinaman sitting just out of sight of the camera.

The filming went as most such things did, with much laughter and many breaks for lighting adjustments or for the MCs to check and see where they had to change the script to make something great that had happened fit into the flow of the show without disrupting anything and still keeping the spontaneity of the moment. HeeChul sat through it all, smiling and enjoying himself when the camera was on, sulking when it was off, as he finally noticed that his assistant had disappeared again and instead his manager was sitting in his place. Despite the fact that he was supposed to stay in his place on the set, he got up during one of the frequent breaks in filming and walked across to ask LeeTeuk where his assistant had gone now.

“He was asked for at the SM building, again.” LeeTeuk answered without even looking up. “I know you’re annoyed. He’s helping DongHae and EunHyuk with the choreography for that new group they have debuting next month. Apparently one of the guys takes longer to learn than the other two, and so Han Geng has been asked to give him some extra coaching.” LeeTeuk finally looked up at him, HeeChul not pleased at all to see his expression one of almost boredom. “I was talking to KiBum’s manager earlier. You both have empty schedules after this, and I doubt Han Geng will be back until late.”

HeeChul narrowed his eyes, glaring at his manager before walking back to his seat, giving a small smile and an apology to the PD who scowled at him for walking off the set. Before filming could start again, he leaned forward, whispering briefly to KiBum and getting a nod and a small smile in return.

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Han Geng stepped off the elevator rubbing the back of his neck wearily. He had been excited when he’d been told that DongHae and EunHyuk wanted his help with the new group they were working with, and he had to admit, things were going quicker with three of them, since each of the singers in the trio needed help in at least one area of their dancing. It wasn’t, he reflected, that they were bad dancers, they were just much better singers, more suited overall to ballads, it seemed. One thing Han Geng had learned in his short association with the entertainment industry, was that no matter what you were most suited for, if the company wanted you to do something else, then that was what you did. So, he was doing his best to make a bunch of ballad singers into dancers. He slowly opened the door to the apartment, glad to see most everything off, except for the automatic lights here and there that came on at the motion of the door. He dropped his keys on the little table, took off his shoes in the alcove for them and padded softly to his room, thinking HeeChul must be asleep already.

HeeChul was a subject that he was also glad to be able to avoid while he was dancing. The night almost a month ago had been a mistake, he’d known it at the time, but the reaction had been so genuine, he had thought at the time that it had been for him. The lack of any mention of anything other than work the next morning had put him straight. Either HeeChul didn’t remember anything, or he thought it had been nothing more than a wet dream. Han Geng had hoped he might have been wrong, but he’d been proven right again and again, as there were no more invitations or near-orders, rather, to come sit and drink with him in the evenings, not even once his schedule had settled a bit from filming all day and most of the night to attending variety shows and interviews and photo-shoots. He had finally taken the offer to help DongHae and EunHyuk as a way to escape from HeeChul for a while, from the awkwardness and the growing desire to yell at him, ask what his problem was and demand a reason for all of this.

He sighed as he stepped into the shower, the warm water running down his back and through his hair, washing away the sweat of several hours demonstrating, correcting, demonstrating again, modifying slightly and demonstrating yet again. He worked just as hard as the people he was helping to teach, but they were getting it. The small bit of choreography for their debut song had been learned weeks ago, now they were working on the more complex routine for a song they would be expected to perform at fan-meets, since the company was expecting them to do well. If they kept doing so well, he had heard something about a Chinese debut for the three before the end of the year. He tipped his face into the spray, smiling lightly. He liked the trio, they were good singers, and they would do well, he hoped. He quickly washed, hair and body, before stepping out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips and another on his head. He stepped to his dresser, taking out sweat pants and a plain black tank to sleep in, dressing quickly before going out to get a glass of water.

He had poured a cup and placed the pitcher back into the refrigerator when he turned and saw someone coming out of HeeChul’s room. He was slightly shorter than himself, with dark hair and bright white teeth as he flashed a smile back into the room. Han Geng watched as HeeChul came to the door, voice low and quiet as he teasingly ran a hand down the other’s chest, getting a muted laugh in response. He didn’t move as the man moved away to see himself out and HeeChul’s door closed. He watched the man walk halfway across the room before pausing and looking straight at him, a devious and almost triumphant smile flashing across his face before he turned and left the apartment, not bothering to say a word to Han Geng. 

Han Geng took his water back to his room, setting it on the bedside table and turning off the light. He lay in his bed and stared up into the darkness for hours before finally falling asleep. It seemed like only minutes before his alarm woke him and he rose tiredly to make HeeChul’s breakfast.

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HeeChul was not a morning person. He preferred late nights to early mornings almost universally, and any night where he could get more than just a few hours of sleep was pure heaven and something to be infinitely enjoyed. This morning, waking the way he did almost every day, with a soft rap on his door and a murmur of Chinese-accented Korean, was something that fell somewhere in between. He had spent the evening with KiBum, since Han Geng had been out, and it was certainly something he had enjoyed. KiBum had been busy shooting a movie in China of all places, and had brought him back a wonderful red silk robe that felt delicious against his skin. It was heavy with embroidery on the shoulders and down the front panels, and when tied loosely around his waist flowed around him in a way that he was honest enough to say he enjoyed. He had been thrilled when he’d been given the gift, and he knew the hint had been there that if HeeChul was interested, KiBum might not mind seeing him in it, someday; preferably someday soon, if the glitter in KiBum’s eyes and that small smile were any indication. HeeChul had almost felt sorry for telling him that he wasn’t sure exactly what his status was at the moment, to which KiBum merely smiled and that said everything it needed to.

Once Han Geng had left the room after being given a sleepy wave and yawn, HeeChul got up slowly and decided against dressing in anything other than the robe. He had indulged in sleeping naked the night before, half of him hoping the covers slipped and gave Han Geng an eye-full of what he was missing out on, and the other half just enjoying the feel of bare skin on smooth, clean sheets. He swung the robe around him, smiling slightly as the deep folds swirled around his legs as he walked, fully aware of the way it parted just to one side in front, revealing a large part of one long leg as he walked. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he passed it on the way to the door and shifted the way it laid on his shoulders just slightly, baring a little more milky skin as he headed out to eat his breakfast.

The Chinese man paused when he appeared, something that made his smirk just a little wider as he sat down, letting the robe fall as it wished and winding up with one leg bared from thigh to ankle. He waited quietly for once, while Han Geng finished the fried rice he was making for their breakfast. HeeChul had almost complained once, early on, when he realized how much of the stuff they were eating, but the way it was made was so delicious, he didn’t want to complain and wind up with pre-packaged muffins or something else that tasted vaguely of cardboard. Han Geng had told him once that his family ran a dumpling shop in Beijing, and he’d grown up helping in the shop with everything from cleaning to waiting tables and running the cash register to cooking the food. He had even proven it once by spending over an hour in the kitchen making a batch of dumplings that were so good, HeeChul had sworn off food the next day, afraid he might have gained weight by eating too many of the mouth-watering things.

Now, however, he didn’t care if it made him fat, if Han Geng wanted to make him those again or just sit with him and drink again, or just speak to him about more than just his schedule, he would be happy. He wasn’t, however, willing to give up his pride to get it. Han Geng lived with him, he had stayed longer than most of HeeChul’s other assistants, with the exception of LeeTeuk and KangIn, and as such, HeeChul really thought he ought to understand him a little better by now. He shouldn’t have to explain things; the man should be able to tell by now. When Han Geng brought HeeChul his food and took his own with him to his bedroom, muttering something about laundry to sort while he ate, HeeChul had to smirk. He knew the Chinese man was affected by him, and a plan formed in his mind.

His schedule had been relatively easy that day, a photo-shoot in the morning for a magazine editorial, then an interview for the same magazine, mostly about inconsequential things that had already been asked in every other interview lately, but he did his best to give answers that gave a little more in some instances and a little less in others. It did not escape his notice when LeeTeuk arrived in the room that afternoon and Han Geng left. The small smile he gave escaped the notice of the interviewer, and they continued with the same boring line of questioning for the next hour. HeeChul had been dropped off early, with a bag of cold beer and another of warm noodles and he had eaten quickly and then dressed in the robe again to wait for Han Geng to come home, drinking the beer as he did so.

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Han Geng came home late again, but this time the lights in the living room were on, as was the television, and a small army of beer cans rested on the coffee table. Behind them, sprawled across the couch in that robe that had nearly driven him to distraction that morning lay HeeChul, red hair spilling across the couch, eyes closed. Han Geng dropped his bag near his door and went back into the living room, picking up the cans and taking them all to the recycling bin in the kitchen before coming back and shutting off the television. He walked to HeeChul and carefully picked him up, thinking that the man was thinner than he ought to be, but still heavy enough to make him stagger a bit, since he was nothing but dead weight. He carried HeeChul to his bedroom, thankful the door had already been open a crack. The light next to the bed had been left on, and he sat HeeChul carefully on the side of the bed, letting him lean against Han Geng’s chest as he pulled back the blankets. When Han Geng began to push him back to lie on the blankets, HeeChul raised his hands, grabbing onto Han Geng’s sweaty t-shirt and not letting go.

“HeeChul,” he whispered, slightly exasperated at this sudden clinging behavior. “You need to lie down and go to sleep.”

HeeChul only shook his head, one hand letting go of the shirt for a moment, tugging at something Han Geng couldn’t see while he was occupied trying to keep HeeChul’s other hand from lifting his shirt and slipping up his chest. He was only partially successful, and HeeChul’s hand trailed up his chest above his shirt instead of below it, but the effect was similar as he had to swallow the gasp of breath and close his eyes a moment to resist the look in HeeChul’s eyes.

When he looked back, HeeChul’s shoulders were barer than they had been just a moment before, and the robe was falling open more than before. He took a moment to try to figure out why, and HeeChul was able to slip his sweaty shirt off him in his moment of distraction. He sighed as lips met his, a warm tongue smoothing over his lips, bringing with it the bitter taste of beer mixed with the taste that he had only had once before, but that was ingrained forever on his memory as simply ‘HeeChul.’ He tried to pull back, to ease away and press HeeChul to sleep, but HeeChul was insistent, persuasive, and Han Geng could only resist all the smooth skin being bared to his view as the robe parted for so long. 

He pressed HeeChul back on the bed, following him with lips and tongue, capturing his mouth and silencing his protests, assuring silently that he wasn’t going anywhere. One hand trailed from the back of HeeChul’s head, down his neck and across his chest and stomach, lifting and then coming to rest on one milky thigh as Han Geng’s mouth followed the same path. He knew HeeChul had been drinking all night, knew that his judgment was impaired by the alcohol just as surely as Han Geng’s was by HeeChul’s mere presence. He knew what it was HeeChul wanted, but he also knew it would be wrong to allow things to go that far with HeeChul in such a state. Besides, the man had seemed to have forgotten their previous encounter after having too much to drink, and now with this time to add to it, Han Geng was heavily suspecting that his attraction for HeeChul was more of a beer-goggle effect than any legitimate affection. Despite the painful thought, there was, at that exact moment, a very interested HeeChul moaning his name and writhing under his hands and mouth, and he would take what little he could get now and hope to be strong enough to prevent a next time.

He was determined to try to keep himself slightly under control as he glanced at the contrast of the sun-darkened skin of his hand and the milky white skin of HeeChul’s thigh. He squeezed the muscle under his hand gently as his attention shifted to what was in front of him now and he smiled before taking HeeChul in his mouth. He reveled in the near-shout of surprise followed by a deep moan as he spread his tongue along the underside of HeeChul’s cock, hollowed his cheeks and sucked. 

Hands scrambled across the bed, one twisting in the sheets until he brought his free hand up and gripped it tightly, the other finding a resting place in his hair and he felt the tugs growing more insistent as he continued his ministrations. HeeChul was moaning almost constantly as he quickened the pace, relaxing the muscles in his throat and taking him deep once, twice, and then pulling back as he felt the muscles of HeeChul’s body tense and warm, salty liquid was squirting into his mouth. 

He pulled back slightly, swallowing the bitter, salty mess in his mouth because HeeChul’s hand was still tangled in his hair and didn’t seem inclined to let go anytime soon. He looked up HeeChul’s body, wincing as he noted the tight grip he had had on HeeChul’s thigh and silently hoping it wouldn’t bruise as it looked likely to. He felt the grip on his other hand and the one in his hair begin to loosen and he let go of HeeChul’s hand slowly, using both of his hands to free his hair from HeeChul’s grip. He looked at the near-sleeping face and smiled, slowly and not without a certain sadness as he leaned down and gently kissed the smiling lips before carefully removing the robe and shifting HeeChul gently between the sheets, pulling them up and tucking them in around him as he mumbled something that Han Geng missed. He hung the robe on the back of the closet door and turned off the light after grabbing his own shirt.

He quickly finished turning out lights and started a load of laundry before jumping into a cold shower to take care of his own problem. He gave up after shivering for more than five minutes and turned the temperature to hot, letting his mind wander as he took pleasure in his hand and his memories of HeeChul below him, moaning his name. Despite his lack of sleep the night before and the release that should have drained him of most of his remaining energy, sleep did not come quickly to him that night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

HeeChul woke slowly. He had no schedules that morning and apparently, Han Geng had decided to allow him to sleep in, since the clock showed nine am and he was still in bed, naked under the sheets. He stretched, and rose languidly to shower, not bothering with making the bed just yet. He’d had the most wonderful dream, and he wanted to savor that for a few moments before he had to go back to his much-unwanted reality. He stepped into the bathroom and started the shower, turning to examine himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door while he brushed his teeth and waited for the water to warm up. He was standing there, mouth full of toothpaste foam and still bleary-eyed when all semblance of drowsiness left in a rush as he saw the large, hand-shaped bruise on his thigh. He stared at it for a moment, toothbrush hanging forgotten from his mouth. He poked at it carefully and frowned. It didn’t seem to hurt. He pushed harder and winced. Okay, that had hurt. He pressed the same way on a patch of unmarked skin and winced again. So, then, it was not as bad as it looked and more just a result of pressure on his delicate skin. Say the pressure of a certain Chinaman’s hand on his thigh like in the dream he’d had the night before that he was now sure was not a dream. 

He spit out the toothpaste and the brush in the sink and rinsed his mouth, then hurried out of the room, not caring that he was naked or that his shower was still running. He looked quickly around the quiet front room and kitchen, and then barged into Han Geng’s room, since the man was obviously in there. He was still in bed, something that took HeeChul by surprise for a moment. He didn’t let it deter him, however, from picking up the sleeping man’s hand and laying it over the bruise on his thigh. The size seemed about right, but the angle was wrong. Han Geng was lying on his back and HeeChul couldn’t reach his other hand without climbing on the bed. With no thought of what, exactly, he was doing, he pushed the bulky comforter out of the way and straddled Han Geng’s hips, pulling up his hand and laying it on his thigh, eyes widening as the size and angle matched perfectly. His dream hadn’t been a dream.

He continued to stare, until Han Geng shifted slightly under him, giving out a small groan and clenching his hand slightly on HeeChul’s thigh. He looked up slowly, until his eyes met Han Geng’s and then he fought not to blush as he realized he was sitting, naked, straddling Han Geng’s hips and half-hard from remembering the things that had happened the night before, or what he could of them. Han Geng blinked at him, shifting again and HeeChul took in a hasty breath, fully aware of what he was feeling beneath him. He shifted, releasing Han Geng’s hand and placing both of his hands on the Chinaman’s bare chest. He leaned forward until their lips were a mere breath apart.

“I knew I wasn’t dreaming,” he whispered.

Han Geng’s only response was a slow shaking of his head. HeeChul smirked; there was simply no other way to describe the look that came over his face. Han Geng visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. His hand still rested on HeeChul’s thigh. HeeChul shifted slightly, causing them both to gasp at the friction caused as weight shifted, pressing their hips together. He took Han Geng’s free hand in his and lifted it, setting it firmly on his ass cheek and smiling a small, naughty smile as he did. Han Geng could barely breathe with the frantic thoughts running through his head. He had to be dreaming, there was simply no other way this could be happening, unless HeeChul had been drinking already. But there had been no hint of alcohol on HeeChul’s breath, only mint from his toothpaste. He wondered if there was a taste of alcohol lingering under the mint.

It didn’t take long, once that thought took hold, for Han Geng to shift his hand from HeeChul’s thigh to the back of his head. Fingers buried in red hair, and he pulled gently, closing the small distance between them and taking HeeChul’s bottom lip carefully between his teeth. He sucked on it, licked it, and then licked at HeeChul’s upper lip, too, until that mouth opened and he was able to plunge his tongue inside. Mint toothpaste flooded his senses, with an underlying taste he recognized from the night before, but it wasn’t alcohol, just HeeChul. He tightened his hand in HeeChul’s hair as he felt the other man shifting, the hand on HeeChul’s ass grabbing lightly, squeezing the flesh until HeeChul stilled, moaning slightly. He gasped as the hands on his chest moved, brushing across his nipples, and he broke their kiss, looking up and meeting HeeChul’s confident gaze.

HeeChul looked down at Han Geng and smirked. Fine, if he was going to be on top, that was fine, but he’d make sure he was the one in control of this, every bit of the way. He moved his hands down, sliding down with them to push Han Geng’s sweat pants and boxers down his legs. He met Han Geng’s dazed gaze for a moment, then dropped his head, leaving sucking kisses on the smooth skin of Han Geng’s stomach and moving lower, until he was able to open his mouth and take the tip of his erection in his mouth. Han Geng practically yelled as he did, hands clutching at HeeChul’s shoulders, trying to pull him back upwards and turn them over. HeeChul allowed himself to be pulled back up, draping himself over Han Geng in such a way that he provided friction to them both every time Han Geng tried to shift them, but turning them over would not be a pleasant experience for him. He pulled one hand across Han Geng’s chest, purposely dragging his manicured nails across one nipple, feeling a surge of arousal hit him as Han Geng shuddered and gasped in reaction. He laid his hand in the center of Han Geng’s chest, palm up.

“Lube,” he said, not bothering to elaborate. Han Geng stared at him for a moment, then reached above his head and pulled out the drawer in the small table next to the bed and pulled out a tube of the gel after a moment of searching and set it in HeeChul’s waiting hand.

He opened the tube and squeezed some out onto his fingers before closing it and dropping it on the bed. Preparing himself was not something he would ordinarily do, normally he insisted his lovers do that for him, but in this case, with Han Geng’s expressive face under him giving him a sense of control and power he normally didn’t get, he was more than willing. He started with one finger, since it really had been too long since he’d had sex, but quickly progressed to two, letting the feelings show in his expression, allowing himself to make the small noises he felt bubbling up in the back of his throat that he would normally choke down, all because every time he moaned, Han Geng whimpered; every time he gasped, Han Geng held his breath for a second, and his eyes were getting darker as things went on and HeeChul gave him a show.

By the time HeeChul decided he’d had enough and continuing would only torture him as much as Han Geng, the Chinaman’s eyes were so dark, HeeChul would have sworn they had never been brown to begin with. He lifted himself, grabbing Han Geng’s hard length with the same hand he had used to prep himself, spreading the remaining lube on the thick appendage before holding it steady as he lowered himself inch by agonizing inch. He threw his head back, holding in the moan as he moved his hand and dropped the last few inches as quickly as he could. It hurt, but it was so good he didn’t care. For the first time in months, he felt connected to someone, and as he looked down into Han Geng’s eyes as he started to move slowly, he saw something there that he immediately looked away from. If he kept looking, if he kept seeing that in Han Geng’s eyes right now, all this would come crashing down. So he closed his eyes, running his long fingers over his own chest and tweaking his nipples, moaning like a whore and giving Han Geng one hell of a show as he rode him like his life depended on it.

It was quick, Han Geng’s hands clenched on his hips, but not trying to control his movements, which only drove him higher at the knowledge that he was calling the shots, he was in control and it was so, so good. Han Geng was gasping beneath him, hips rising erratically to meet HeeChul’s motions, eyes fastened on HeeChul’s hands and the way they worked his own body. HeeChul peeked from between his closed lids, watching the expression on Han Geng’s face, the naked lust that shone there as he slid one hand down to his own aching length and stroked, in time with the way he was riding Han Geng, letting out a throaty moan as Han Geng tilted his hips and lifted, hitting his prostate dead on and he felt everything burst behind his eyes, colors exploding and a roaring filling his ears as he came. He dimly felt the pressure on his hips increase and heard a hoarse shout before he dropped forward, snuggling his face against Han Geng’s sweaty chest and ignoring the stickiness on his stomach for the moment.

A loud blaring hit his ears and he frowned, glancing up as the bed underneath him moved and the sound stopped, realizing after a moment that his ‘bed’ was Han Geng, not a mattress, and the noise had been Han Geng’s alarm. He looked up and smiled a little at the slightly awkward look on Han Geng’s face. He allowed Han Geng to wrap his arms around him and kiss him gently, then wrinkled his nose and smacked the Chinaman on his chest.

“You smell like sweat, and I’m hungry. Go shower then make food,” he said, sliding off the Chinaman and standing and stretching, fully aware that Han Geng was watching every move he made. He waited until he heard the shower start in the bathroom, and then smirked at the yell Han Geng let out when he stepped into a freezing cold shower as he remembered he had left the water on. He walked out of the room laughing to go shut off his shower. He would wait until after breakfast to take one of his own.

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Han Geng was at the barre in the practice room in the basement of the SME building, stretching, not caring about the slightly smug smile he hadn’t been able to get off of his face for very long over the past month and a half. His relationship with HeeChul had gone from the two of them ignoring each other, to HeeChul practically attaching himself to Han Geng every chance he got. His smile grew as he realized he hadn’t slept in his own bed in over a month, HeeChul having insisted Han Geng sleep with him even on nights they didn’t have sex, though that didn’t happen often.

The practice sessions with the trio they had been helping, who had been named KRY by the company, had been cut back once they had debuted, and they were nearly done, the only work they were doing now was simply getting the three in time with each other and adding other trainees as back-up dancers. Han Geng pulled his thoughts back and paid attention to the others again as he finished stretching and the three young men started out the door, one calling something back to DongHae that Han Geng missed. He didn’t miss HyukJae’s comment though.

“Aish, KiBum is here again? Why does he keep hanging around here? Why doesn’t he just go find HeeChul and sleep with him instead of trying to get into your pants all the time?” The comment was directed at DongHae, who blushed and sputtered for a moment before replying.

“HyukJae, come on, he’s not that bad.”

“No, he’s just been fucking HeeChul whenever they are both in town for over a year, no matter which one of them is in a relationship. He has no loyalty, why don’t you see that?” HyukJae grabbed his bag, tossing it over his shoulder and walking out of the room. DongHae followed after a moment, sighing gently, his expression sad.

Han Geng was left standing alone in the room, his thoughts running a million miles an hour. He shook his head, wanting to believe that what HyukJae had said was nothing more than just company rumors. HeeChul was with him, and he wasn’t cheating, Han Geng was sure about it. He picked up his own bag, turned off the lights on his way out and froze as he saw DongHae talking to someone that he recognized. It took a moment for him to remember where from, but after a moment of standing in the dark doorway, he knew. He was the man in the apartment, more than a month ago, who had given HeeChul his favorite red Chinese silk robe, the one who had smirked at him in a way that hadn’t needed translation. He remembered seeing HeeChul run his hand down this man’s chest, the look and body language that had spoken of familiarity that didn’t come with just friendship. He closed his eyes, and turned away before he did or said something he might regret later on, taking the stairway at the opposite end of the building instead.

He took the bus back to HeeChul’s apartment, in spite of LeeTeuk offering him a ride. One ride with the older man driving had been enough to convince him he never wanted to have that experience ever again. Besides that, he wanted time to clear his mind before he had to see HeeChul, and waiting for and riding the bus gave him that time. By the time he finally walked in the door, he had managed to push aside the vast majority of his doubts and had decided to simply ignore the rest. HeeChul calling loudly from the living room the instant he walked inside that he was about to die of starvation helped, and he started cooking before he did anything else. Once HeeChul had declared himself to no longer be starving, Han Geng dragged him toward the shower, insisting he needed help washing his back.

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Han Geng didn’t think any more about what he had heard, instead managing to leave his jealousy behind as time went on. He and HeeChul had fallen into something of a routine, and the one time Han Geng was left alone in HeeChul’s apartment for the weekend it seemed far too odd for him to sleep easily. HeeChul had a fan-meeting scheduled in Busan, but the company had insisted that LeeTeuk and KangIn handle it, since they wanted Han Geng to help finish getting KRY ready for a Chinese debut set to happen in another couple of months. He had spent the entire weekend locked away at the company building, either in the recording studio helping the three with their Mandarin pronunciation or in the basement practice rooms, going over additional choreography with DongHae and HyukJae. He’d been glad for the distraction taking most of his waking hours, since when he got back to the apartment, he didn’t think about how odd it felt to be sleeping in his own narrow bed, by himself. He was so exhausted all weekend that he fell asleep quickly and slept deeply.

Monday morning came far earlier than he would have liked, and he got up, starting the coffee in the pot and fetching the newspaper from the hallway in front of their door like he did when HeeChul was home. He tossed it on the table and left it as he scraped together some left-over takeout for breakfast. Once he was seated and had finished most of his first cup of coffee, he looked at it again, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. He didn’t know why HeeChul had ordered it in the first place, since it was little more than a gossip rag. But he seemed to enjoy reading it while he drank his coffee in the morning, often making disparaging comments about the celebrities who were caught on film and had their relationships splashed all over the front page. Han Geng stood with his coffee cup in one hand and his empty bowl in the other when something caught his eye. He set both items down on the table and pulled the tabloid to him, opening it so that it lay flat on the table.

The headline didn’t matter to him, what caught and held his attention was the picture that took up almost half the front page. It was blurry, and most people wouldn’t have recognized who it was draped over each other, but Han Geng did. For a few minutes, he didn’t know what to feel as he stared at that picture, and the two people in it, then he finally read the headline, and the short paragraphs that constituted the article. Apparently, the ‘reporter’ who had taken the picture had thought Kim KiBum had brought a drunken girl back to his hotel room and that she had stayed all night. Han Geng swallowed past the huge lump in his throat and after a moment, he turned to his bedroom and started packing. 

An hour later, he was out the door and in a taxi on his way to the airport with his passport and his round trip ticket back to China. He had left the money the court had ordered he pay HeeChul on the man’s bed and sent one simple text message to LeeTeuk before he left. All it said was: “I quit.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

HeeChul slumped back into the seat of the rented van as it wound its way out of the airport complex and into the streets of Beijing. He didn’t want to be there, he had wanted to stay home and just keep doing what he had been doing for the past three months. The last thing he had wanted to do in late summer was to fly to Beijing. The company had had other plans for him, though. So, even though he had objected – some might say he had thrown a temper tantrum – he was, instead, in China.

The other three from the company were in the seat behind him, exclaiming excitedly as they drove past things, talking about how they hoped, since they were practically unknown here, that they would get a chance to go see some of the sights, and maybe do some shopping. HeeChul rolled his eyes. He had no plans to go anywhere outside of his hotel room and possibly the hotel spa, that wasn’t on his schedule. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his manager for a moment before turning away and looking out at the people they passed in the street. After a moment he closed his eyes, instead. The last people he wanted to see were any stupid Chinese people. Especially stupid Chinese men like the one that had left him with no explanation except a tabloid with a blurry picture on the kitchen table and a wad of money on his bed.

He heard his manager talking to his new assistant and scowled. The man was only temporary, he’d been told, just because he needed someone until they could find someone more permanent, and because there had been a delay in the start of his own project. He hadn’t wanted a new assistant, had insisted that LeeTeuk and KangIn handle matters themselves, until LeeTeuk had told him rather impatiently that KangIn was enlisting in the army and if HeeChul had been paying attention to the world around him instead of moping in his room, he would have known that. He’d had nothing to say to that, so he hadn’t said anything. He knew it had been a sore point with LeeTeuk when he and KangIn had gone for their pre-enlistment physicals the year before and KangIn had rated high, while LeeTeuk had been told that the same accident that had ended any chance of being an idol had also made him ineligible to serve. He sighed, pretending to be asleep until he felt the van slow and could hear everyone around him gathering their things and getting out. He grabbed the one bag he was carrying himself and slipped his sunglasses on as he climbed out.

The lobby of the hotel was posh and luxurious, an intriguing mix of modern elegance and traditional opulence, and he silently approved, though he suspected the rooms would likely be the same bland attempt at comfort that he saw everywhere. As they walked in, they were greeted by a member of the hotel staff who assured them they had already been checked in, and that their liaison from the Chinese office had their keys and was waiting for them. They were led to a more private corner of the lobby, near the elevators and found a tall man with a smile that spread from ear to ear waiting for them. He introduced himself, and while the trio behind him was trying to get the pronunciation of his name right, HeeChul spoke up finally.

“Yah, Seasonings, just give me my key already, I’m tired.”

“My name is ZhouMi,” he started, but took one look at HeeChul’s bored face and handed over a key and quietly said a room number, still with a smile on his face before leading all of them to the elevator and up to their floor.

He’d been right about the room, he decided as he closed the door behind him. While they had made an effort to match some of the more muted colors in the lobby below, it still had that same blandness that too many hotel rooms had. He sighed, dropping his bag on top of the suitcase that ShinDong, his assistant, had placed just inside the door and going instead to the window and staring out at the city. They had this evening off, then the next day he had a fan-meet and then a meeting with a producer who wanted him to guest in a few episodes of a drama, then he was free again as far as he knew. While he had no plans of doing anything when he got on the plane, he could already tell that staying in this room would bore him to tears. Maybe he would see if he could get some shopping done instead, hopefully, without the trio.

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“Seasonings, we need to eat, I’m starving.”

ZhouMi turned, and HeeChul frowned at him. He had never in all his life imagined there would be someone who could out-shop him, but three hours straight, when breakfast had been six hours before that, was getting to be a bit much, even for HeeChul. He planted his hands on his hips, bags hanging from his fists, and cocked his head to one side as ZhouMi looked bewildered for a moment, then as understanding dawned. He looked around, and then pointed off to the left. 

“Down this way, there is this amazing little dumpling shop. The son of the owner came back a few weeks ago, and he makes the most amazing –“

“I don’t care what he makes that is so amazing, as long as it is edible and not going to cut into my shopping budget. Let’s go, Seasonings.” HeeChul started off down the little side street ZhouMi had pointed to, happy when not too long after the taller man came sprinting up beside him and took the lead. 

HeeChul had to admit he had been kind of enjoying his day. Of course, there weren’t any designer labels in China, but there were plenty of other things he had been interested in. He had already purchased three new CDs he’d been wanting, a bag he had liked, and several clothing items he had liked, regardless of their knock-off status. Still, all of that hadn’t distracted him from the reason he hadn’t wanted to come to China or Beijing in particular, in the first place. Even while he had been looking over the items he was buying, he had still been searching the faces around him. He wouldn’t admit that he had been hoping and dreading at the same time that he would see the one person in the entire country who meant anything to him right then.

The shop had a bright, cheerful interior and turned out to be much cleaner than HeeChul had honestly expected. White walls were covered in family pictures in frames that ranged from simple wood nailed around the picture to ornate things that looked antique, and might even actually be, given the age of the picture inside. He glanced over a few of the older ones while ZhouMi ordered for them and sat down to wait for the food. The woman at the counter was old enough to be his mother, but she had a youth about her that made her age irrelevant. She smiled and joked with ZhouMi in Mandarin that HeeChul didn’t understand a word of, but it had an accent he couldn’t get out of his head. It bothered him, somehow, that he recognized that her words were accented differently than ZhouMi’s, and he shook his head, telling himself to stop thinking so hard. She left to go help make their food and ZhouMi came back to the table, while HeeChul looked away, back to the pictures on the walls.

He had looked over a few more recent pictures, all apparently since the shop had opened, that showed the family in front of the place, or in the kitchen. The faces were a bit of a blur to him, but he noticed the woman in several of them. He was about to look somewhere else when one picture caught his attention and he froze. The woman stood with her arm around a taller man who had to be her son, the resemblance was obvious, and they looked like they had just been to some sort of graduation ceremony. But it was the man that caught and held HeeChul’s attention. He felt a pain starting in his chest and forced himself to draw in a breath. This was why he didn’t want to come to China. 

A crash brought his attention away from the picture and he looked across the room. They were the only customers, so HeeChul couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen or been seen. ZhouMi and the woman who had taken their order were picking up the spilled food while the man who had dropped the tray stood with a stunned expression on his face that was slowly changing. Before anything could be said, HeeChul stood and grabbed his bags.

“Seasonings, I changed my mind. I’m going back to the hotel,” he said as he walked out hastily, forcing himself to keep to a steady pace once he was out of the building, hoping he was going in the right direction, since he really wasn’t paying attention. 

ZhouMi caught up to him a moment later, breathing harsh from running even as he admonished HeeChul for leaving without him. HeeChul tuned him out as soon as they were in a taxi headed back to the hotel. It really would have been faster to walk, but something about the idea of walking had left him feeling exposed and vulnerable, and he hated feeling exposed and vulnerable. He kept everything in until he was safely in his room and ZhouMi had gone to let his manager know they had returned. He dropped his bags near the closet by the door where he had left his luggage. The curtains were still open and he walked through the room to sit in the chair near the window, turning it so he could look out over the city. 

The afternoon skyline was slowly fading towards evening as he watched, but he didn’t care about what was outside the window, his attention focused inward. He closed his eyes, not willing to admit to the pressure he felt behind his eyes. Seeing Han Geng just a little while before had left him remembering everything about the day he had returned home and found out he was gone. 

He had opened the door to find the apartment dark and assumed, at first, that Han Geng was simply doing more work with KRY. He had turned on the lights and gone to his room, ignoring everything else, and that was when he had known there was something wrong. A pile of money bound with a rubber band was in the middle of his bed, and after he had slowly picked it up, counting it had confirmed his worst suspicions. He had dropped it back to the bed, not allowing himself to think about it right then, walking instead out of his room and to the smaller room Han Geng had occupied next to his. The room had been empty, the bedding folded neatly on top of the mattress, the closet and drawers empty. The bathroom was the same, no hint of anything belonging to the other man.

He had walked out into the main room and crossed to the table, the only place in the apartment where anything looked out of place. A bowl and cup sat on the table, used and discarded carelessly, and the morning paper HeeChul had begun getting to catch up on the latest gossip was sitting open to the front page. He looked at the picture there for a moment, stunned, wondering why no one had told him this had been printed, then he pulled out his phone and called LeeTeuk, demanding to know where his assistant was. Being told to wait while LeeTeuk came up was not something that made him happy, and the phone met the wall shortly after the man had hung up. 

He had not calmed when LeeTeuk arrived, though he had managed to keep his tongue long enough to let the man tell him what was going on. When he had heard that all LeeTeuk knew was that he had received a text saying Han Geng was quitting, though, the fight had gone out of him. He had wanted to rage and yell and throw things and fly to China immediately to beat an explanation out of the Chinaman. Instead, he had sat quietly on his couch and stared out the window, much like he was doing right then, in the hotel room, as the lights of the city below came on and darkness spilled into the streets between the lights. 

After a moment, he stood, running a hand through his hair and grimacing at the way the sweaty strands stuck together. This was what he hated about summer, the heat and humidity made him sweat, and he hated being sweaty. He took his phone from his pocket and called LeeTeuk.

“Yah, Teukie, are my schedules done here?”

“Let me check,” LeeTeuk said briefly, and HeeChul could hear the pages in LeeTeuk’s notebook being turned. “Yes, you’re done. You are free to shop and sight-see to your heart’s content until we fly back on Friday.”

“Then I’m going home. Have a car ready to take me to the airport in two hours, I need to shower and pack, first.”

“HeeChul, we’re supposed to go back as a group.”

“Yah, I have nothing to do here, and I don’t want to stay. I’m going back by myself, deal with it.”

He hung up, turned his phone off and then gathered his toiletries before pulling the curtains closed and going into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and starting the shower. He had no plans of coming out or talking to anyone until the water went cold or he was so pruned he looked like he was as old as he felt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@@@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Han Geng watched as a man he had never thought to see in person again got up and left in a blur of shopping bags and long red hair. He was oblivious as his mother shooed ZhouMi out of the shop after him, and it wasn’t until she waved her hand in front of his face that he blinked and realized they were alone in the shop again, and there was still a large mess on the floor from the tray he had dropped.

He pulled a rag from the pocket of his apron and leaned down to help her clean up the mess he had caused, his mind still focused on long red hair and slightly feminine features frozen in shock and hurt. His mother grabbing his hand pulled his attention back to the task at hand and he realized she had cleaned it all up and he had been doing nothing but wiping the same spot over and over again.

“That was him? The one with the red hair?” she asked. Her voice was soft and gentle, and he felt her acceptance and love wash over him, just as he had since he had returned from Korea and fallen into her arms, shocked and hurt and doing everything he could not to cry over someone he had given his heart to.

He nodded, and she sighed. He had spent the last couple of months hiding in his bedroom that he had lived in since they had moved to Beijing, and had only finally begun helping at the shop a few weeks ago. She said nothing more, and after a moment he just stood and took the tray back to the kitchen to clean the dishes and dispose of the wasted food as a group of girls entered the shop and started to cross to the counter to order.

The next hour passed quickly as more customers came and ordered food. He focused on the orders coming in, making the dumplings fresh or cooking ones they had made earlier in the day and refrigerated for later. When his mother came back to tell him to take a break because ZhouMi had come back, he protested at first. Until she told him that one of the part-timers had come to take over the counter and she would take the kitchen duties. She had taken his apron and shoved him gently out of the kitchen and he had followed ZhouMi out of the shop, not bothering to think about why the man was there.

He stopped when he reached the bottom of the two steps leading up to the door and looked up. He almost turned and went back inside when he saw LeeTeuk standing nearby with a disapproving look on his face, but ZhouMi knew him too well, and he grabbed his arm and pulled him toward LeeTeuk. The look softened as Han Geng stepped into the little circle of light from the street lamp above LeeTeuk’s head, but it was still obvious that he wasn’t happy about the circumstances.

“You know HeeChul is in Beijing, ZhouMi told me about it earlier. HeeChul is getting ready to go back to Seoul, and I guarantee that if he leaves without getting to settle things here, you will likely never have the chance to apologize to him,” LeeTeuk said, crossing his arms over his chest and tossing his head to get his bangs out of his eyes, light glinting off the frames of his glasses as he did.

“Apologize?” Han Geng exclaimed. “What do I need to apologize for? He is the one who cheated on me, and probably had been the entire time!”

LeeTeuk sighed and shook his head. “No, Han Geng. I know how that picture looked, and I’m sure you heard rumors around the company, but while they may have been true in the past, they weren’t this time. KiBum has been spending the last several months trying to convince DongHae to give him a chance, Han Geng. The night that picture was taken, they were both rather drunk. They went back to KiBum’s room and HeeChul asked me to bring them coffee. The reporter didn’t bother to report on my presence since I was not someone they recognized right away and they didn’t put two and two together. I doubt anyone other than you, I and possibly KangIn recognized HeeChul in that picture, since it was so dark.” 

Han Geng stood, staring at LeeTeuk as the implications sunk in. He had let his jealousy lead him to the wrong conclusions, and then he had acted on them and hurt the person who was second only to his own mother in his world. He had caused so much heartache for them both, over nothing. If he had just stayed, all of it could have been avoided.

“I’m such an idiot,” he muttered.

“Yes, you are. Yet, for some reason I am still going to tell you that HeeChul is in his room, at the Beijing Grand Royal Hotel, and his room number is 1205. For some reason, I am also just going to happen to have accidentally dropped his extra room key into your hand, and forgotten to call his car to take him to the airport. Please don’t make me regret my carelessness, Han Geng-sshi,” LeeTeuk said with a small smile as he slid the plastic card into Han Geng’s hand.

Han Geng stood for a moment, stunned and confused, but then as he watched LeeTeuk being led away by ZhouMi toward the market at the other end of the street, he smiled. He turned back and shouted into the restaurant that he would be back later and then took off at a run in the opposite direction than ZhouMi and LeeTeuk had gone. 

He arrived at the hotel out of breath and had to force himself to walk quietly across the lobby, doing his best to look like he belonged in his cheap t-shirt and faded jeans. He took the time waiting for the elevator and then riding it up twelve stories to catch his breath, but then had to make himself calm down all over again when he reached HeeChul’s door and found his hand shaking.

He started to knock, but pulled his hand away just before it touched the door. He didn’t want HeeChul to know he was there, in case he decided to refuse to let him in. Instead, he would simply hope that HeeChul had left the door unchained and not bolted. He took a deep breath, then dropped the card in the slot and unlocked the door, opening it slowly. Once he was sure it wasn’t bolted, he stepped inside and closed it behind him, making sure to put the chain on and throw the bolt across.

He could hear the sound of water running from the bathroom, and saw HeeChul’s bags still unpacked and sighed, glad he wasn’t too late. He opened the curtains and then sat down in the chair in front of the window, looking out over the same skyline HeeChul had just a short time before, wondering while he waited what HeeChul had been thinking while he looked out at the city. A few minutes later, he heard the water shut off, and a few minutes after that the bathroom door opened. He saw the light from the bathroom spill over the wall next to him and then disappear as HeeChul turned off the switch. He turned his head, smiling a little as he saw the look of shock on HeeChul’s face as he finally realized there was someone else in the room and exactly who it was.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

HeeChul stared for a moment, not realizing the towel he had wrapped around his hips had fallen when he saw Han Geng standing in front of the windows. His mind stuttered and stopped briefly, and then he frowned and turned away, muttering only two words.

“Get out.”

He walked to his suitcase, picking through the clothes inside to find something comfortable and still stylish to wear for the trip back to Korea. He had to ignore the person who had shown up without warning or invitation in his life not once, but now twice. He had to leave, go back home and find a way to forget this man. He didn’t hear the footsteps on the plush carpet, but he felt the hand on his arm, trying to make him turn around, trying to make him give in. He shook it off and went back to finding something to wear.

“HeeChul, please don’t turn away from me. Please let me apologize.”

“Apologize?” He whirled, eyes blazing, the anger he hadn’t felt in months came surging to the surface and boiling over. He hadn’t been angry when he was left without a word or a chance to explain, but he was angry then, suddenly. He was beyond angry, he was infuriated, and he had no inclination to pull his punches. “What the hell are you talking about? You think that after you walked out on me without a word, you can come here and just say you’re sorry and make it all better? Well, fuck you! It doesn’t work that way. Now, get out!”

“No.” Han Geng’s reply was quiet, but firm. He had been stupid before, letting HeeChul go without trying to keep him, not trusting him, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. If HeeChul truly wanted to get rid of him, he was going to have to push him out of his life. He took a step forward, his hands raised, gently placing them on HeeChul’s shoulders and holding him still. “I was stupid, and jealous, and I’m sorry. I’m not letting go again unless you make me.”

HeeChul did everything he could to suppress the shudder that moved through him at the hands on his shoulders. Han Geng’s words sparked something inside of him, and spread warmth though him, but he didn’t want to give in to it. He had spent months depressed and barely leaving his bed unless he had to, and his fans and even the press had begun speculating on his obviously listless attitude and his lack of passion and life. Han Geng had to pay for that, at least, he thought. He lifted his hands, laying them flat on Han Geng’s chest and pushing against him, trying to get him to move away.

Han Geng’s hands tightened on HeeChul’s shoulders when he was pushed, pulling him closer instead of letting him go. He felt HeeChul’s body bump against his and he couldn’t resist letting one hand drift from HeeChul’s shoulder down his back to his waist. He glanced down and smiled slowly. HeeChul was angry, yes, but he was still attracted. The connection between them wasn’t gone, and that was something he would be more than willing to use against the stubborn man in front of him. He had been the passive partner in their relationship before, in a strange country, with a man he barely knew who was his boss. He had let all of that control his actions, until jealousy had pushed him to a place where none of it mattered. He had moved beyond that, to a place where he wanted to make HeeChul forgive him, and he could feel HeeChul’s body and the flash of his dark eyes telling him that HeeChul wanted him back, regardless of the words coming from his mouth. He just had to get HeeChul to admit it. The thought of what if HeeChul wouldn’t admit it, what if he turned him away completely crossed his mind, and sent a stabbing pain into his chest, knowing if that was really what HeeChul wanted, he would let him go. 

HeeChul couldn’t avoid the goose bumps that covered his back at the smile that crossed Han Geng’s lips. He had been trying to tell himself this was not turning him on, that he was no longer attracted to this man who had left him, but that smile wasn’t something he could ignore, and he felt himself slowly getting aroused, his length hardening at the slight friction as he was pulled against Han Geng. He pushed at him again, but it wasn’t serious and he knew it.

“You left me,” HeeChul said, voice quiet and eyes flashing with anger and lust, which he wouldn’t admit to unless his life depended on it.

Han Geng nodded, his eyes drifting from HeeChul’s eyes to his lips as he spoke. 

“I did leave you, and that was likely one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done in my life,” he said, leaning forward, intending to kiss HeeChul’s lips. HeeChul turned his head at the last moment and his lips landed on HeeChul’s cheek. He sighed gently and focused on the smooth cheek beneath his lips, kissing lightly, drifting his lips across that soft skin to HeeChul’s ear, nibbling on the lobe for a moment before whispering to him. “I am sorry, and I want to show you how sorry I am. Let me show you, HeeChul, please.” 

His fingers felt the shudder down HeeChul’s spine as his breath danced around HeeChul’s ear and he grinned, his hands moving across HeeChul’s back, pulling him closer, pressing them together. His lips drifted down from HeeChul’s ear and on down his throat, pausing at the pulse point to feel HeeChul’s heart picking up speed as he moved his hand from HeeChul’s waist down his hip to rest on the curve of his ass. HeeChul didn’t answer, too worried that if he opened his mouth he would give in. He didn’t want to allow Han Geng to have his way, but the lips on his neck were driving him insane and the hand on his ass was making his thoughts wander away from his anger.

Han Geng moved his other hand from HeeChul’s shoulder, letting it slide down HeeChul’s chest, making sure to just brush his nipple as he went, leaving HeeChul’s skin just before he touched the thin line of hair that began just an inch below HeeChul’s navel. He swiftly popped the button on his jeans and moved his hips back just enough to slide down the zipper before pressing back against HeeChul, pushing them both back at an angle around the suitcase sitting on the stand near the closet, until HeeChul’s back was pressed against the wall. His pants were sliding slowly down his hips as he moved, and more as he rolled his hips against HeeChul’s, his hand drifting back up along HeeChul’s side, coming to rest finally against HeeChul’s cheek. HeeChul’s eyes drifted closed as his back met the wall, a tiny, breathy moan escaping before he could stop it as Han Geng’s hips rolled and his hand ghosted over HeeChul’s skin.

HeeChul opened his eyes a moment later, meeting Han Geng’s eyes with a challenge. He was the one who had always been in control when they had sex. It was something he wasn’t willing to give up on. He moved his hands to the hem of Han Geng’s shirt, pulling it up and off before speaking, hands coming down to rest on the waistband of the jeans that were slipping down Han Geng’s hips.

“Just because I want this doesn’t mean I forgive you,” he hissed. Han Geng only smiled and nodded as his jeans were pushed down his hips.

He let out a short growl as HeeChul’s fingers then moved on to push down his boxers, and he pressed forward, capturing HeeChul’s lips with his, moving his hand to the back of HeeChul’s head when he tried to move away, holding him and using everything he had learned that HeeChul liked to make him part his lips. Han Geng swept his tongue inside, tasting every corner of HeeChul’s mouth and using it as a distraction while he moved both hands down to grasp HeeChul’s ass and lift him, pressing him more firmly against the wall until his legs lifted and locked around Han Geng’s waist.

He used the press of his body to keep HeeChul in place while he pushed his boxers further down, feeling the shudders running through them both as bare skin met in places that left them both gasping. Han Geng’s hands moved along HeeChul’s skin, pressing on every spot he knew of that would heighten arousal and drive them both insane. They both knew this wouldn’t last long; they had each been too long without the other and their need was too large. HeeChul let out a small, breathy sound, something almost like a whimper. HeeChul would never admit to it though, and Han Geng would never dare accuse him of it at that moment. Han Geng moved his lips from HeeChul’s mouth, trailing wet kisses along his jawline to his ear, whispering harshly for lube. HeeChul’s hand waved in the general direction of the suitcase that still stood on the little folding stand next to them. Han Geng reached a hand over, groping blindly while trying to keep HeeChul pressed to the wall. 

He smiled when he found the small tube, popping the cap and squeezing some onto his fingers as well as he could before he dropped it to the ground. HeeChul had his head pressed against the wall behind him, his eyes half-lidded and his tongue peeking out as he licked his lips. Han Geng reached underneath, slicking his cock with the lube before grabbing hold of HeeChul’s leg to hold him steady and lifting just a little, trying to open him and prepare him as much as he could in the position they were in. He leaned forward, his tongue following the path of HeeChul’s own before driving into HeeChul’s mouth while he thrust forward, allowing HeeChul to drop slightly and the force of gravity to help him slide inside the almost impossibly tight passage.

The kiss was broken as HeeChul threw his head back and hissed through his teeth, his fingers tight on Han Geng’s shoulders, manicured nails making half-circle marks on the skin. Han Geng’s head dropped to HeeChul’s shoulder, groaning at the tightness, the heat, the impossible feeling that rolled over him that this was right, this was where he belonged – here, with HeeChul, wherever that might take them both. He turned his head, pressing his lips to the pale skin of HeeChul’s neck, moving upward until he could look HeeChul in the eye. He kept the eye contact as he began to move, his hips thrusting harshly and firmly, letting HeeChul know without words exactly who he belonged to. HeeChul kept his head back at first, hissing and his fingers gripping tighter, his nails breaking the skin in spots, enough to make Han Geng wince, but not enough to make him let go. He gripped HeeChul’s hips tighter, shifting them in his hands and then thrusting forward with everything he had, almost frantically, and HeeChul’s eyes closed as he let out a loud moan.

The pace picked up as they worked together, then, HeeChul helping to tilt his hips in just the right way to provide the most friction and sensation for the both of them as Han Geng drove them both toward the edge they were craving. Han Geng moved one hand up to HeeChul’s face, cupping his cheek and slowing the pace until HeeChul opened his eyes and glared at him in annoyance. He met that gaze, pressed a kiss to HeeChul’s lips and thrust, hard, again and again, watching the pleasure race through his lover even as the defiance at his first word disappeared from his expression and finally his eyes as that same word was repeated again with each thrust. They came together, shuddering together through the bliss that encompassed them, and both heard only one thing over the pounding of their blood in their veins.

“Mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@@@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HeeChul stirred slowly, not opening his eyes, instead snuggling against the warm chest under his cheek and smiling slightly. He moved slowly, stretching his back, then his arms, and settling them back where they had been. He heard a low rumble from the body under him, but ignored it. He would acknowledge that he was awake when he was damned good and ready, and not a second before.

He heard a tinkling tune begin, and the chest under him moved, shifting him and making him mumble in annoyance. A moment later, the noise stopped and the body under him settled, one large hand running across his back. He arched into the sensation, the warmth traveling where the hand went and making him sleepy and relaxed. He shifted his head once the talking began, wanting to hear the half of the conversation he could hear clearly.

“Hello… Yes, I am with him… He’s awake, he’s just trying to pretend he’s not… No, I think that will be fine. I’m not sure I can get the necessary paperwork done by then, though… I understand, thank you… Yes, I will. We’ll be down later, then.”

HeeChul grumbled a little as Han Geng moved under his cheek again, finally rolling away and onto his side, still with his eyes closed. He could hear Han Geng moving around, and the shower starting in the bathroom. After a moment, he felt the bed dip and the blankets were pulled away. He opened his eyes slowly, wanting to scowl, but then stopped as he was pulled into strong arms and lifted. He opened his eyes wide, only to be set on his feet and kissed so thoroughly he was left a little light-headed. It didn’t stop him from scowling, though.

“I never said I forgive you,” he muttered.

“No, you haven’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep apologizing until you do,” Han Geng replied. “Besides, you need to shower so we can meet LeeTeuk downstairs in an hour for lunch. I’d hate for my first task back on the job to be a failure.”

“You are not my assistant again.”

“Yes and no.” Han Geng smiled as he pulled HeeChul toward the bathroom, the late morning light from the windows playing on naked skin and distracting HeeChul from what he was saying. “I’ll explain at lunch.”

HeeChul frowned as they disappeared into the bathroom. “If you think forgiveness is going to be this easy, you have another think coming,” he said with a toss of his head.

Han Geng just smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own Super Junior or any of the members. I make no profit of any type from this work of complete fiction.**

Han Geng sighed as he was grabbed by the arm and pulled across the lawn. He hadn’t wanted to come, and as soon as he had seen the crowd, he had actually turned around and headed back toward the car, intending to either leave and come back for HeeChul later, or just sit in the car and wait if he had to. HeeChul wasn’t allowing him to do either one. 

He forced a smile as he followed HeeChul through the small crowd, smiling and nodding where he was supposed to, and giving a genuine smile finally as he caught sight of a woman walking toward them across the lawn in the sunshine. HeeChul spotted her a moment later, and Han Geng frowned slightly at the set of his shoulders. He had never gotten over his minor animosity toward Lee GaHae, claiming that it didn’t exist, but everyone could see it did. When SiWon had first told them he was planning on proposing and needed HeeChul’s help in picking a ring, he had been all for the idea. Han Geng just smiled and shook his head when the tabloids got hold of the story and published an article comparing her beauty and HeeChul’s and declaring that the high-profile attorney had found himself a wife who was prettier than his famous client. HeeChul hadn’t taken well to the idea, and Han Geng found the streak of jealousy amusing, most of the time. Now, however, was not one of those times.

He leaned forward a little to gently hug her and give her a brief kiss on one cheek, and felt HeeChul grab his hand and ‘accidentally’ dig his manicured nails into Han Geng’s palm. He hissed a little, glaring at his lover in annoyance and then back to GaHae, who was giving HeeChul a smirk to rival his own. Han Geng sighed when HeeChul simply raised one eyebrow in a very clear challenge that neither was willing to take up right then. Their rivalry was becoming legend among their mutual friends, several of whom Han Geng could see across the lawn.

Han Geng had taken over in LeeTeuk’s position as HeeChul’s manager not long after the two had returned to Korea and LeeTeuk had taken on a new boy to teach, though the initial months had been difficult. The boy was an amazingly talented musician, but hadn’t spoken a word of Korean when he arrived, and only a little bit of Chinese, though ZhouMi had done his best to help on that front. The company had finally wound up getting a tutor for him who was fluent in Mandarin, Korean and English, and the boy had come a long way, but with everything they had him doing on a daily basis, it was no wonder he looked exhausted most of the time and seemed to speak in some sort of hybridized language that was mostly English and part Mandarin, part Korean at least half the time, until someone – usually LeeTeuk -- reminded him to only use one at a time. As Han Geng looked across the yard, he saw Henry on his knees, trying to clean up something while LeeTeuk seemed to be trying to get him to his feet and ZhouMi was hovering and flapping his arms a little. It wasn’t a surprise to Han Geng, and GaHae chuckled a little as she followed his gaze. 

Han Geng took a moment as she made her excuses to them both and then went over to help the situation as one of the servants the Choi family had hired for the event arrived. He looked around at the friends he had made over the past year, his gaze settling finally on his lover, who had finally only the week before told him he forgave him for leaving. Han Geng had wisely refrained from saying that he had known he was forgiven for months, but had kept doing what he was doing because he wanted to, not because he thought he had to. He still made sure that HeeChul received a bouquet of flowers at the set of whatever drama or variety show he was filming once a week – discretely anonymous, of course. HeeChul loved being able to smile mysteriously as he walked away with all the women jealous that he had a more thoughtful lover than they did. He still made sure that HeeChul was woken every morning to fresh coffee and a light breakfast of fruit, rice and fish, so that he wouldn’t gain weight. He still did the laundry and made sure HeeChul never had to wear a pair of pajamas to bed that he didn’t like, on the rare occasions that HeeChul fell asleep clothed, that was. 

When they had arrived back in Korea, Han Geng had begun saying three small words to HeeChul in Mandarin, every day, at least once. Though HeeChul had asked, demanded and even resorted to attempting bribery to get him to tell him what they meant, Han Geng still insisted that he figure it out himself. He had made a few guesses, but after being wrong every time, he had gotten quiet. Han Geng knew he would figure it out sooner or later, but he was willing to wait, since he was fairly sure that HeeChul knew what he was saying in his heart, even if his head and his ego weren’t quite ready to admit it.

SiWon approached them then, and HeeChul pulled Han Geng away toward the buffet table instead, leaving SiWon laughing and rolling his eyes behind them while Han Geng just shrugged. The two met up at the bar a while later, speaking quietly for a few minutes, Han Geng offering SiWon congratulations at his proposal having been accepted and SiWon asking if he and HeeChul would be willing to stand for him at the wedding. Han Geng had been surprised, but had agreed. In spite of the way they had met, he and SiWon had become good friends since, and GaHae had been one of only a few friendly faces at what he had thought of as a low point in his life. Of course, he would be willing to help them in any way he could.

Later, when HeeChul had pushed him into the backseat of the car that had brought them and insisted the driver take a route that would guarantee they would be stuck in traffic for at least an hour, Han Geng looked at him in question. HeeChul raised the darkened privacy screen between the front and back seats and Han Geng was immensely glad for the darkly tinted windows that made it impossible to see into the back seat as HeeChul crawled into his lap and straddled him. 

“You are mine? That’s what you have been telling me every day?”

Han Geng smiled slowly. “You have been talking to ZhouMi, haven’t you? I thought I told him not to say anything.”

HeeChul hummed in the back of his throat, smiling as Han Geng’s hands pulled his dress shirt from the waistband of his slacks. “You did. But you forgot to tell Henry not to say anything.”

Han Geng laughed. “Henry? You managed to get him to find out for you? I’ll admit I’m a little impressed. I didn’t think he was able to understand anything you said to him.”

“I can be very persuasive,” HeeChul said, and leaned forward to press their lips together, parting his lips and trailing his tongue along Han Geng’s bottom lip, followed by his teeth as he slid off Han Geng’s lap. “But now, I’m going to prove who belongs to whom.”

Han Geng’s head tipped back, grateful again for the tinted glass and the privacy screen as HeeChul dropped to the floorboards between his knees.

Surely,

he thought,

things can’t get much better.


End file.
